


Good Company

by lyllytas



Series: The Good Company AU [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Asexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Bickering, Dating, Dating fails, Domestic Fluff, Lots of dates, M/M, Magic, Plant Magic, Self-Indulgent, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, match making, what do i even tag this as
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 15:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19771018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyllytas/pseuds/lyllytas
Summary: In a world where the not-pocolipse never happened, Gabriel was on his way to Aziraphale to get a standard report. Unfortunately, the bookshop is locked, and he overhears the strangest conversationorthe one where Gabriel decides to play matchmaker and some really odd changes take place





	1. Overhead Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel hears some rather interesting things

Three schoolkids were waiting for the bus to take them off to class early one morning. They were year 8 and feeling rather annoyed that the bus was running late _again._ Two of them were cousins, and the other boy was a neighbor, not that it matters particularly much. None of them wanted to get another lashing for being late again this week, even if it was for reasons they couldn't particularly control.

A gentleman came along and tried to open a door that very much did not want to open, even more so now than usual. He did looked rather determined, and something about him screamed: ' _I'm far more important than you_ '. After standing in front of the hours sign, he cupped his hands and took a long look in the window.

“Are you looking for _The Twink_ or _The Professor_?” One of the boys called out to him. “If you're trying to buy a book, go across the street and have a tea. He opens up eventually.”

“Try the door harder. It's heavy.” Another suggested.

“He's a grown up, he knows how to open a door, pillock.” The first boy said as he smacked him on the head.

Gabriel stared at them. People didn't usually talk like that around him. “I'm rather not-"

“Oh, The Twink then. Drives a black really nice old car, ya? He'll show up here eventually.”

Gabriel was going to tell the boys that he didn't actually need their help, but the next sentence caught his attention.

“Oh, maybe he'll have the snake.” The dark haired boy chimed.

“The snake?” Gabriel turned to look at them closer.

“Oh yeah, he's got a _HUGE_ snake. Or- maybe the librarian does.”

“It's the _biggest_ snake I bet you'll ever see!”

“I think it's name is Anthony." The second child said.

The third one added, "One time it ate a whole chicken.”

“Yeah, it was awesome!”

"But it's not always there. Just sometimes." He explained.

“It's good you're not trying to buy a book. My mum says he's the worst ever at running a book shop. I don't think he actually wants to sell anything. I swear she's trying to convince him to retire and run away with her to the country.” The first boy yelled to him.

“Oy, yer step dad, The Book Keep, wouldn't that be hilarious.” He scoffed at his cousin.

“Oh, watch your mouth. Your mum's half in love with him already.”

“Psh, everyone loves him, he's like a grandad, the crotchety old bastard. He's a right tosser if you catch him on a bad day.”

“I keep telling her it's not going to happen anyways. I think he's playing for the other team. Pretty sure the Twink has that on lock-down."

The boy scoffed. “Yeah, but that twink is wrapped around _“his angel's”_ thumb.”

“Oh, finally, there's the bus!" The youngest boy exclaimed. "Look, hang out, have a scone, he'll come along.”

“Bye Mister!”

Gabriel stared at the trio as they climbed aboard the bus, rather more flabbergasted than he'd been a moment ago. He had just come to check in with Aziraphale as he did every couple hundred of years, but now he wasn't quite sure what was happening anymore.

<~>

Gabriel did hang around, though not at the bakery eating like the boys had suggested. More like a lurking in back alleys and making an effort to conceal his essence. He needed answers and he'd hardly get them by letting anyone know he was here. Later that morning, a window propped open in the bookshop, no doubt to take advantage of the slight breeze gave him his next clue.

“I've got an appointment this afternoon." A voice caught his attention. It was a familiar voice, though it shouldn't have been here. "Some new salon. I got a coupon.”

“Oh, you're going to something _dreadful_ with your hair again, aren't you?" Aziraphale said glumly. "I should have known. You always binge drink before doing something to your hair. Why do you even need a coupon?"

“It's not dreadful. It's a style. And I was just curious about this salon. My hair is always stylish.”

“Oh, is that what you think?” Aziraphale said scornfully.

Crowley scoffed. “Don't want to hear if from you, Mr. Perfect condition coat and ruffles in the Bastille. Why don't you put some real effort into things for once, and not just a pair shiny shoes.”.

“I do.” Aziraphale paused then said quieter. “You remember my shoes from then...”

“Subtle hair, and a bow tie, you look like a history professor. Is this going to be on the quiz?” Crowley mocked, choosing to ignore the second statement.

“Really, my dear, childish insult from you?”

“Well, you keep letting those lot hang out in here.”

“It's been _RAINY.”_ Aziraphale huffed back. “You can hardly expect me to make children wait in the rain. And the bus has been running late and it's cold.”

“Oh sure, invite them in and have coco while they wait.”

“Hardly, they spill on the books.” Aziraphale scoffed. “And I _know_ the bus is one of yours. Your schemes are always causing headaches and inconvenience.”

“I think that's a good thing.”

“Think of Dorris.”

“Angel, the bus driver, _seriously?_ I haven't got time to worry about the bus driver, I'm trying to create the biggest traffic jam this side of the world has ever seen.

“Dorris has rent to make, and grand-kids... You can't cause a pile up just cause you're mad someone cut you off in traffic.”

“I can too. I'm _that_ arse-hole driver! I'm offended there's a human out there who thinks he's a worse driver than me. That's the _third_ time this week, I'm going to ruin that wanker's Wednesday... Besides, Dorris will be fine, it's all taken care of. Union and stuff.”

There was silence, no doubt mooney eyes were being made. Gabriel almost gagged at the thought. He'd certainly seen Aziraphale make faces over the most ridiculous things, But they extended to a demon?

“Go open up.” Crowley growled.

“Yes, my dear, you've got schemes to plot, and I think I've got a customer or two to scare away.”

“Ugh, I'll make myself scarce then. Bentley's in the shop for a couple more hours. Fluid changes. I'll just hang out in the back room then... Wish you'd get rid of that couch. It's terrible.”

“It looks so nice though.”

“Angel, never become an interior decorator. You haven't got the skill. And you need a new couch.”

“The couch is fine.” Aziraphale scoffed as he walked off.

“Ooo the couch is fine.” Crowley muttered mockingly as his voice growing fainter. “Couch is not fine. Even my spine has limits.”

Gabriel pulled away from the window. That had been entirely enlightening. Those boys from earlier; they'd been telling the truth then. He certainly had a lot to think about and some things to look into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering I have 10,000 words of this written out and I'm about 2 weeks past brain surgery, please ignore the slow start. This AU is self indulgent and hits all sorts of spots for me, matchmaker!gabriel, fantasy/magic, snark and sass, so much dating hand holding, and obliviousness, (seriously Aziraphale is dumb as fuck) I don't even like Gabriel, but writing him was actually kind of fun and I'm really enjoying playing in this AU now. I apologize for nothing. This was entirely fun to write.


	2. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun stuff starts to happen in this chapter. And there are some changes to be made.

Gabriel kept his eye on the shop. Crowley sauntered out of the bookshop around four, and returned well after dark, in that grey and black automobile of his. The Bentley was parked thoughtlessly outside, and Crowley exited to walk to the bookshelf without a thought, like he did this often. He put his glasses in his jacket pocket, revealing those yellow eyes of his. He didn't exactly _look_ too much like Crowley; the faded T shirt, blazer and jeans were normal, the eyes were normal, but the hair was different. [Longer, fluffier. Lots of curls.](https://thekidsareangry.tumblr.com/post/186222344287/gives-crowley-this-hair-in-the-fic-im-writing) The demon certainly felt the same to him though.

“What's a twink?” Gabriel called across the street, bringing him to a pause.

Crowley gaped at him as he turned around, “A twink?” He tried to reconcile that voice asking that question and figure out just how much danger he was in.

“Someone called you a twink." Gabriel studied him. "What's that mean?”

“A _TWINK?”_ Crowley opened and closed his mouth a few times.

“You're not here to ask me that, and you certainly don't want to know the answer.” Crowley steeled himself up. “Um. Why are you here?” He looked Gabriel over trying to sense if anyone else was there. He really wasn't prepared to deal with a bunch of archangels on his own.

“I was just checking in. Really it was just luck." Gabriel shrugged. "Well, that's what we do.” He looked at Crowley. “I wasn't expecting to run into Hell's face here on Earth, let alone find him practically living with a principality.”

“I don't live here!" He denied. "I have my own flat.”

“With a comfier couch?”

Crowley mouth gaped open again. _Just how long had the angel been hanging around the bookshop? And how exactly did he know about Aziraphale's terrible couch?_

“I see this as an opportunity.” Gabriel said to him evenly. “I very much doubt Hell would like to find out what you're up to." He paused and looked at Crowley, putting force into the words "And what exactly _ARE_ you up to?”

“I, er, it's Monday." He found himself stammering, his tongue moving before he could think. "They have a special at the The Clove Club.” There was a long pause. “It's a restaurant.” He added helpfully.

“Ah yes. Aziraphale does enjoy his food. But then, I wasn't really asking what you were doing right now, But you. Why are _you_ here?”

“Because someone has to drag him out of that bookshop and you know, tempt him into trying the delicacccies," He dragged the word out, "of the mortal world. I'm a demon, you know.”

“Yes, you're just doing your job." Gabriel inclined his head. "Causing traffic jams and taking Aziraphale out on dates.”

 _“DATES!”_ He flushed crimson and stammered. “These aren't dates. It's just periodically checking in.”

“And what's your endgame here?”

 _“Seriously?_ Why bother tempting some mortals who aren't even going to be here in a couple years. It's been a long six thousand years. I'm just passing time, really." Crowley scratched anxiously at his ear and batted curls out of his eyeline. "I notice you aren't saying much about Aziraphale.”

“Yes. Your Angel.”

Crowley looked like he wanted to melt on the spot. It was a very odd look for the demon; he was torn between being mortified and trying to figure a way out of the shit ton of trouble he was in.

“I have to admit. I've been curious." Gabriel said slowly. "I've been watching the two of you, did a lot of research. The two of you meet in public a lot. Did you know there are Earth Observation Files? Just right there for anyone to see.”

There were Files? What did that mean? Nothing good from the sounds of it. Watching them? Crowley was trying to figure out just how to get this conversation back on level ground but came up with nothing. They were caught, and there was no way out.

“It was quite odd, and I didn't quite understand. But I feel it. I didn't think demon's felt. But I'm an angel. And I definitely recognize love when I feel it.

 _“Love?”_ Crowley drew the word out, high pitched. “Who said anything about love?”

“You.” He walked closer to Crowley. “You feel like love.”

“No. I certainly don't.” Crowley held up a finger. “I'm a demon.”

“You're an _anomaly."_ He said. "How peculiar. Remarkable... I wonder how Aziraphale didn't notice it?" He paused. "No I don't. Aziraphale's an idiot.”

“No he's not. He's really clever.” Crowley defended automatically. Had this whole thing been some kind of backwards temptation that Aziraphale was doing on him? Could he spin it like that to get them out of trouble?

“Yes, you would say that.” Gabriel stepped closer, wrapping his arm around the demon's shoulder. “Crowley, you're going to miss dinner. I think we need to talk.”

Crowley's brain spun a million miles an hour as Gabriel touched him. He'd been prepared for Hell. Feeling that taste of Heaven, it was almost overwhelmingly too much. It left him disoriented, traveling through a bright light and warmth that left sparks and tears in his eyes.

And then they were somewhere else. The dark London street was gone. The Light was gone. And his feathers felt the memory of the fall from where they sprouted on his back. He reached for one of the pinion feathers subconsciously to check that it hadn't burned. That he was still himself.

“Fancy a change of scene?” Crowley said weakly when he recovered, trying to pull a blank facade over his vulnerability.

Gabriel studied him before responding. “I wanted to talk to you alone, without him showing up.”

“If you hurt him.” Crowley reached for his powers and felt them fade away from his fingertips.

“Shut up, Crowley.”

“You'd not be the first to say that.” He glanced at his fingers. _“That_ though, that's new.”

“No Miracling your way out of this, pretty handy huh?" He walked forward. "Let's us have a nice long chat.”

“Chat? Is that what you lot do?” Crowley pulled out his shades and brushed his hair aside again - that was getting old fast, there was a reason he had always kept his hair out of his face. It was annoying. Really annoying. He put his shades on trying to at least control one thing. His damn hand was trembling. He scowled at it.

“Had to get a special room so I don't cause trouble. I'd say I'm honored really, but well quite frankly, there'd be blood now if we were down below.” He paused. “We aren't down below.”

“No we're not.” Gabriel said.

“Why not?”

“Because if you're dealing with Aziraphale than _I_ don't have to. He is sooo annoying.” He rolled his eyes.

“I, er... Wot?”

“Crowley. Crowley. Mr. Demon. You mind if I call you that? I think that's an Human thing. Those titles. They do like neat little boxes to fit themselves in.” He walked around the edge of the room. “I want to make a Deal.”

“You? Dealing with a demon? You summoned me.” He huffed in realization. “It's a damn summoning circle." He glanced down as it sunk in that he was trapped. "Oh bloody Heaven.” He said when he felt the powers that bound him. “You're serious. You want to make a Deal. How did you even get my _name?”_

“I have my ways. I'm serious. I want to make a Deal, though I'm not sure you'd want this one on your permanent record. I'm sure we can keep this off the books.”

“What could you possibly Deal?”

“You want Aziraphale.”

“No." Crowley said sharply. "Aziraphale is not someone that can be bought. I'm not dealing for Aziraphale.

“I didn't say I was offering him. I was making an observation. And I can make things a little easier, give you some breathing room, Tell you to _stop_ meeting in public or with the windows open, the whole street thinks you two are scandalous.

Well that at least explained how the archangel knew. “Wot? We haven't even _done_ anything. Your angel is as pure as the day he guarded the garden with his flaming sword.”

“A sword he gave away.”

“To protect Eve. He was being kind. That's what he does.”

“And look at the consequences.”

“Wot, War? She's an edgy bitch, but she's a flaming sword. What else would she be? I like her, just not in large doses.”

“Right.”

“There's bombing, and the logistics of it all. Messssy.” Crowley shook his head. “This isn't about War.”

“It isn't. It's about you.”

Crowley looked at him. _“I_...” He took a shuddering breath and tried to regain some control. “You summoned me to make a Deal. Deal.”

“Fine.” Gabriel shed his mortal form, shifting into the fullness of himself. “Clearest terms. I can get Heaven and Hell off your back. Go woo Aziraphale to your hearts content.”

“Woo?” Crowley winced from behind the circle. He was safe here, but Gabriel was a _sight,_ and he was bright.

“Romance. You do do that kind of thing. Don't you?”

“Demon.” He snapped. “And quite frankly this is the strangest Deal I've ever been offered.”

“It's like I said, if you're putting up with him, I don't have to. And quite frankly, half of putting up with Aziraphale is listening to him talk about you.”

“He _talks_ about me?” _Get a grip Crowley, you may as well be pulling on your pigtails_ , he told himself sternly as he exhaled. “So let me get this straight. You want me to date Aziraphale. And in return all our problems get a whole lot easier?” He looked at Gabriel funny.

“Pretty much.”

Crowley's lip quivered. “If I was a good demon. I'd take this Deal.”

“So why don't you?”

“Because this is wrong.” He pulled off his shades and winced against the light. “All of this is wrong. Heaven, and certainly you don't care about my feelings, but surely an angel knows that you don't go around making Deals about love. No way. I'm not making this deal.”

Gabriel stared at him for a moment, searching deep into his eyes before stepping forward to scuff the circle on the floor.

And Crowley called for his powers, felt them return, but knew it wouldn't be enough.

“Be not afraid, Crowley. I'm not going to burn you. I had to know, had to be sure it was real.”

“So what was this?" He shouted. "Some trick?”

Gabriel pulled himself back into his human form. “No.” He tilted his head. “I meant what I said earlier. You are an anomaly.”

“It doesn't matter what I feel.” Crowley sank in on himself, to the ground, his hair falling back over his face. It was too much, he felt like the strings holding him up had been cut. Archangels have funny effects on others.

Well that and maybe Crowley was a bit melodramatic.

“It doesn't matter. I spent 6,000 years.” Crowley stretched his lips out thin. “But I go too fast.” He huffed. “So whatever trouble Heaven or Hell could come up with. No doubt I've put myself through it.”

“I can't believe I'm saying this. Because quite frankly, Aziraphale is probably my least favorite person - _ever._ But you may be an even bigger moron than him.”

Crowley didn't even defend himself. “Yup.” He popped the P. “That's me.”

“Oh my Heavens. You over-dramatic little shit. I've got to do all the work now.”

Crowley popped his head off the ground. “That was decidedly un-Heaven like from you.”

“Oh please. Aziraphale says worse all the time to customers in his store.”

“Well, he learned it from me. Clearly.”

“Exactly the problem. A demon that's not quite a demon, and an angel that's been on earth too long. If I let you go, Hell would eat you up alive. And right now, that might get one problem off our hands, but you quite frankly have pulled off some impressive stuff for Hell.” He paused. "Maybe."

“I'm not working for Heaven. No way. I Fell. You're out of your mind if you think I'd go back.”

“No. but I don't think you're Hell's agent anymore. I think you're Humanity's.

 _“Oh.”_ Crowley paused, his face flickering through thoughts. “Can we do that?” He blinked up. “Do the humans get a say?”

“Well undoubtedly Hell would send a new agent. Heaven might just send some backup. And you might actually have to do some work every now and then.”

“I work. Just usually do things my own way.” He sucked his teeth.

“Yeah, a way I don't think Hell would approve of. I saw you did the blessings.” He tilted his head, “I mean, Aziraphale wasn't where he said he was, so it had to have been you. I didn't look too close into it, but I'm not a complete idiot. The two of you are terrible at covering your tracks.”

Crowley took a deep breath, his powers still seconds from being summoned.

“Crowley, you have two options. Option 1, I tell Hell what you're up to, let the pieces fall where they may. You use those powers you're summoning. Option 2, renounce your side. Take a new job.” He looked at Crowley. “What's it going to be?”

“What happens to Aziraphale?”

“Well option 1 gets messy. Option 2, has more room to move.”

“Either way, I'll not let anything happen to him.”

“Then make your mind up. This is a one time offer. Do I try and fix this, or should I contact down below?”

Crowley's eyes darted around the room. “Do you even have the powers to be making that kind of decision?”

“If anyone decides anything, it'd be you.”

“Fine. Option 2. Never been one for Hell much anyways.”

“Shake on it. You're done with them.”

“Yeah, fine. I'll be for the humans. Suppose I have been for quite a while anyways. And Aziraphale?”

“I suspect everyone will be much more focused on _you.”_

“Well, that's all right then.” He pulled the false bravado close. “Now this is really ruining my plans for the night. Let's shake and be done with it.”

Gabriel held out his hand, which Crowley stood up and took. There was light. His wings sprouted from his back, unbidden. It was almost like the fall. But more of a rush this time, burning into his very essence, tingling it's way through him. The whole thing lasted maybe a second, but it felt like a lifetime.

“What did you do to my wings.” He gasped, shuddering under the weight of the light once it was gone. They felt different. Bigger, Lighter, funny.

“I didn't do anything. That must have been all _H_ _er._ I guess.”

Crowley stared at his wings for a moment. “Bloody joke.” He took a moment to compose himself. “I'm sparkly. And green.” He turned to Gabriel. “No. What are these?” He wiggled his wings tentatively.

“I kind of like them. All leafy and full of life.”

Crowley twisted to stare at the iridescent wings, the tips sprouting moss and ivy growing over the smooth edges.

“I'm like a bloody plant unicorn.” He focused on them and found he could put them away like usual and did so a couple of times until he was used to the feeling. The plants stayed in existence though, falling to the ground when he put his wings away.

“They're so light. Besides all the plant stuff.” Crowley blinked. “So what does this mean now?”

“Shouldn't you have gotten the fine print before agreeing to this?”

“All that mattered was that you said Aziraphale wouldn't get in trouble for this.”

“No, he rather won't. I suspect Heaven will be quite happy to have stolen a demon, even if it did end up on humanity's side.” He paused. “You're spreading.”

Crowley looked down. Green magic was indeed sparking off of him, going to the floor where several weeds were growing.

“That's a concrete floor.” Crowley noted as it cracked and weeds continued to grow.

“I suppose you know what the your duty as Humanity's agent is now.”

“Right yeah, keep the sorry lot alive, climate change and all that.” He blinked a couple times. “And what exactly am I supposed to say to Aziraphale?”

Gabriel stepped closer. “I think you need to choose your words very carefully. I mean it has been 6,000 years.” He blinked. “And you're not dating? Really? The office pool is going to be so very disappointed.”

“Why is my dating life _or_ lack-there-of any concern of you lots?!”

“Well it's Aziraphale's really. You just happened to be the subject of contention.” He sucked his teeth. “And if you're going to be Humanity's Agent, well, I'd rather not be fighting a war on two fronts. So yeah. Make nice. Do you thing.”

“My thing?” Crowley scoffed. “My thing hasn't been working for 6,000 years. It ain't happening. Aziraphale's denser than a bag of bricks sometimes.” And he frowned again. “I really, really, don't want to be talking about this right now. Can we please just get back to the fire and brimstone and destruction?”

“I wasn't joking when I said it'd be nice to get Aziraphale to calm down. He's always been so wound up. I hear sex does amazing things to chill people out.”

“SEXXX?” Crowley stammered. “Who said anything about sex?”

“Oh, you are seriously the worst demon ever, well, former demon. Whatever you are now.”

Crowley's face went through a range of emotions while he tried to figure out how to react to that. “I. I'm pretty sure this is some really bad trip from some really bad drugs. Because I am not hearing the Archangel Gabriel telling me to get down with an angel.”

“Yeah, I didn't really see this conversation going this way either.” Gabriel shook his head. “But I think that's what needs to happen. Anyways. He was probably caught up on the fact that you were, you know, a demon, and that kind of fraternizing is frowned upon up there.”

“Right. So I'm just supposed to pop in there with me new leaves and bits and say, hey, I know I've been throwing myself at you since you did a bang up job of keeping me out of the garden, but I've got the stamp of approval from your boss, so lets get down to the fun stuff.”

“Well, maybe not like that.' Gabriel made grimaced. “How do humans, well court? He's stuffy. Play by the book. Be not. Well you. And I'll try and make it harder for anyone to stumble on this.”

“Right. Um.” Crowley raised a finger. “So this really happened?”

“Yes, this dreadful conversation, I'd like to forget about already. The paperwork for this will certainly be interesting.”

“Paperwork. Right.” Crowley blinked as he realized he was the one that would be coming up with paperwork from now on. Not just giving reports. “Did I just do what I think I did?” He asked himself.

“Look, take some time to get things straightened out here on Earth before Hell notices what's going on, though the lack of miracles coming from you will probably get some questions.

“Whose tally am I on now?” He sighed.

"I think you're on yours."

“Oh, this is going to be so much work.” Crowley tugged at his hair.

“Well, you did Fall.”

“And climbed somewhat back up.” He bit back. “Besides, it was more like a slide down. A Whoopsie daisy.”

“Right. Well I suppose that's why she saw fit to give you some new wings.”

Crowley flicked his wings out tentatively. “So, a few days then?”

“Yeah, try and make plans for when Hell finds out, cause they're _really_ not going to be happy. And I'm not really sure how much upstairs will help. Just. Do _something_ about Aziraphale and we'll be all good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, but Aziraphale is in the next chapter, now that things are set up


	3. Week One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale gets involved

Crowley's plans for the night had been to go to Aziraphale's. He had just wanted dinner with his angel and to show off his new do because he did like to keep up with the times. But Gabriel's offer had rather changed his plans, and accepting it meant, well, he didn't know what it meant.

Research. Crowley needed to do a lot of research now. Sure he had defenses, but they were mainly for protection against upstairs; he really needed something stronger. And now that he didn't have to worry about his defenses accidentally hurting him, he needed something demon proof, something that would protect the two of them if this didn't work out. Humanity was his responsibility now but he couldn't do anything if he wasn't here to protect them.

It took him a couple of days to work all of the protections out. Constantly leaking power was seriously draining, though all the greenery in the area certainly enjoyed it. London had never looked livelier. In fact, all of England was enjoying a rather pleasant weekend.

The thing was, it was just so bone drenchingly exhausting keeping upright, that he hadn't managed to see Aziraphale in days. Nor had he let him know what was going on. Crowley was just pouring as much effort into keeping them safe as he could. He'd do the bookshop once he was sure the loft was safe.

It'd be a little harder, since he'd have to make sure Heaven could still get through, at least to the main shop. The back room could be protected properly, so at least Aziraphale would have some kind of sanctuary. Not that Aziraphale spent much time there, except at night when he curled up with a book on that horrible couch of his.

The flat, well he'd worked himself and Aziraphale into the protections, anything else would burn. You needed a key to get through, and then if you weren't protected, you'd burn. He was rather pleased with that double layer of power. It was rather precise work for him. Almost reminded him of playing with star dust.

And then he'd gone around the city, dropping little bits of power, something that could give him a heads up when forces were on the move. It was probably more than he needed; not really something he should be focusing on right now - not with as many disasters as were brewing. But he wanted to feel like he was doing something. And with all the magic flowing around him, he could do so much more than before. When he was a demon, he could do simple magic. Crafting his little alert network was draining, but doable. What were his limits now? 

<~>

Crowley slumped onto the bed in his flat, he hadn't even bothered turning the lights on, he barely even remembered to use his key to open his front door. He simply flopped face first onto the bed without paying much attention to his surroundings, other than willing the curtains to close. Even that minor miracle was almost too hard. Sure, he could do lots, but afterwards, he needed time to rest and recharge.

Finally he was finished with his protections around London and he was tired; he wasn't sure he had a single drop of power left in him. The flat was safe. London was safe. He'd do the bookshop tomorrow so Aziraphale would be safe.

“Oh fuck me." He muttered into the pillow. "Its like someone is scraping my scales off with a rusty spoon. Why did I agree to this?” He pulled the blanket over his head. It was only 3 in the afternoon, much to early for anyone normal to go to bed. But he was entirely done with today.

He didn't even mind the hour or the sun streaming down. His bedroom had blackout curtains anyways. Just some rest, then he'd get back to it. Had to protect his angel.

“My dear, there's hardly an audience here," a voice cut through the darkness. _"Why_ so melodramatic?”

“Aziraphale!" Crowley scrambled up. "What are you doing here?”

Aziraphale held up his key to explain his appearance. “You're not answering your phone.” He said calmly.

“You're sitting in the dark. In my bedroom.”

“I would have knocked and waited at the front door if I didn't think you'd ignore me. And it was light when I was waiting. You just didn't notice me." He folded his arms. "It's been 4 days. Not a call, you missed dinner, and your Bentley was parked outside my shop all night the other day, don't think I didn't notice it was gone in the morning." He crossed the room to stand over Crowley. "What's happening?”

“I've been busy!”

"You've been _busy?"_ He exclaimed. “You've been too busy to even bother letting me know what's going on?" He waved a finger at Crowley. "I've been fretting that Hell had a hand in this, and you won't even pick up your mobile.”

“Oh, er, I forgot to charge it." He shrugged. "Really it's been a couple of crazy days. I physically cannot even deal with this right now.” He ran a weary hand over his face. He needed this nap, like yesterday.

“Look, no one's getting in this place, Aziraphale. You can have a kerfuffle when I wake up if you'd like, but right now, I'm going to asleep. Be as upset as you want. Just don't bring anyone else here while I'm snoozing; only you or I are getting through that door.”

He yawned and flopped back on the bed, boneless. “Actually, second thought." He waved a hand tiredly. "Maybe you should stay inside here. If things go belly up while I'm asleep, this is the best place for ya.”

“Belly up?" Aziraphale blurted, "Crowley!” He crossed the room to demand answers, but Crowley had already slipped away. He had been seriously in need of rest then, and it was hard to be upset when he saw just how ragged Crowley looked.

“Oh my dear, what have you gotten into now?” Aziraphale pulled the blankets over him and tucked him in better.

“Stay _here?”_ Aziraphale said to himself. "What in the world is happening _now?"_

_< ~>_

He made his way through the flat while Crowley slept. Even the plants seemed less terrified than usual, and oddly, somehow greener. There was even a small pile of books on the coffee table, and he picked through those, surprised at the choices.“Classic” literature was not Crowley's usual type. No he much preferred humor, crude writings and glossy magazine pages. These were more in line with Aziraphale's tastes.

Had Crowley been planning this? Some advance notice would have been nice then. The angel picked up one of the books and made his way back towards Crowley's bedroom. Really he wasn't going to watch the other sleep, it was just nice to have some re-assurance that the demon hadn't slipped away again.

It was 19 hours later, Crowley finally stirred. He blinked awake. “Is that coffee I smell?”

“That was three flats over and several hours ago.” Aziraphale tutted. “Why is your nose always the first thing to wake up?" He hovered nearby. "I'd quite like some answers, you know.”

“Ugh, no. talking. Words. Coffee first.” Crowley didn't care about the hour. He just woke up, and he wanted coffee.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and miracled him a cup and set it on the bedside table.7

Crowley picked it up and took a sip. Just the way he liked it, of course, and just on this side of too hot. He gulped it down greedily. He brushed his hair out of the way and pawed at his bare chest as he set the empty cup down. “Where are my clothes?” He frowned. “I'm pretty sure I had clothes.”

“You were a snake for a while.” Aziraphale shrugged.

“Oh. Hadn't realized I'd spent _that_ much.” Didn't even bring his clothes with him when he shifted, must have been very tired.

“Well you did." Aziraphale looked down at him. "And you'd better explain why.”

“Well, can I at least get dressed before you start the next inquisition?”

Aziraphale looked ready to argue.

“No, angel." He cut the air in front of him with his hand. "I'm getting dressed.”

Aziraphale turned around rather quickly when he lazily spread out on the bed, and arched his back in a stretch. His bed was one of his favorite luxuries with it's silken sheets and pillows, and he ambled towards his walk in closet to find suitable clothes.

Once he was dressed in black skinny jeans and a old faded band shirt, he slid back into the room. “I'd like to say, first of all, this thing is not entirely my fault."

"I've heard that from you so many times now."

"Well I have been busy. Got a new job and all that.”

“New job? Isn't that a human thing?”

“Well... about that...”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes. “Is this some new scheme of yours?”

“No.” Crowley paused, “I don't think so. Honestly I'm not quite sure anymore. I think it'd be easier to just show you.”

“Well then show me. I've been waiting long enough for answers, and I know you live for the drama, but this is hardly the time. I'd like to know what's headed our way.”

“Well, fine then. But it wasn't my idea.” He brought his wings into existence, flapping them a few times. The membranes, well they still felt a little weird. It was like new teeth after 6,000 years.

“What on Earth have you done?” Aziraphale looked over his wings.

“More like it was done to me." He shook his head. "Long story.” He paused. “A plant. Bring me a plant.”

“What are you going to do?" He put his hand on his hip. "Yell at the poor dear?”

“Just come on.” He pulled Aziraphale out of the room and into his green room.

“Okay, look.” He gestured.

“I see they're all green and lovely. Really." Aziraphale was losing his patience.

“No.” Crowley barely brushed a leaf and that was all it took, the green sparks spread, calling life into the room. Plants multiplied. Vines sprouted over his wings. Flowers burst onto greenery that previously never bloomed. Moss clumped on the tops of his wings, and still the sparks spread from the room, darting through the window and spreading out.

“Oh. My.” Aziraphale took it all in.

“That. Keeps happening.” Crowley tried to detangle himself from the vines that had tried to root him to the floor. “If I hear one Poison Ivy joke, I'm going to flip my lid.”

“Why would I bring Poison into this?" He cocked his head. "Do you think weed killer would help?”

“You're hopeless. Redhead, plant lady. Comic books? Shouldn't you know all things literature?”

“Comics are hardly literature.” *

*Aziraphale's opinions were very much his own, and this was hardly the first time they'd had this disagreement.

Crowley scoffed, about to argue.

“This is so not the time for that debate, Dear." Aziraphale cut him off. "What is all this?” He ran his hands over the growing vines.

“Well, don't take my word for it. I was just kind of,” he made a face uncertain how to explain. “Never mind, details aren't important". 

"Details aren't important?" Aziraphale scoffed. "Details are so very important. Demons hardly look like like that."

"I doubt Hell's going to be happy about me leaving so sudden.” Crowley paused, eyes wide, They were rather more serpent like than usual. "I am still a demon? What else would I be? Right so about that, heads up, I was told both upstairs and downstairs are probably going to send some new faces, at least till things get straightened out.” Crowley frowned. “And downstairs is probably really not going to be thrilled when they realize just what side I'm on, really.”

“Side?”

“So this new job. It's for them.”

“Hell?”

“Wot, no. It's a human thing. Kind of. I think I'm supposed to sort out whatever mess they've made of the planet, at least, that's all I can figure out what with the plant powers and stuff, and these wings feel REALLY weird, and I don't even know what color to call this, but it hardly goes with my aesthetic.” His voice was too fast, too thin.

“Crowley you're not making a lick of sense.”

“I'm _trying_ to make this as simple for you to understand. I'm not quite sure I'm allowed to tell you all the details. I don't even quite know what I am right now.” He paused, “Other than greenery. Honestly it's not like this came with a manual, I'm still trying to figure out how to STOP because quite frankly, the whole blooming path wherever I walk is _mortifying_. Even my plants don't take me seriously anymore. You can't hear it, but they're LAUGHING.”

“I can't tell if you're being serious or just being over-dramatic.” Aziraphale crossed the room to stand by him.

“When am I over-dramatic?”

“Have you ever met you?" He sassed. "Looked in the mirror?" He shrugged. "We'll figure this out. You just need to tell me everything.”

“That's the thing though." Crowley reached out for him. "I really don't know if I can tell you everything.”

“But Crowley, you've never kept secrets from me before.” Aziraphale looked sad.

Crowley chewed on his lip guiltily. “Angel. It's not a secret. Look, just vague details.” He twisted his hands through his hair. “I was offered a way to get a little breathing room for us both when things got sticky. I took them up on it." He sighed.

"And _She._ Well. I'm budding now. And when Hell finds out, I really don't think they're going to be pleased with the extremely short notice, or the fact that I didn't bother to tell them.”

Aziraphale ran his hands through his own hair. “So that's it? Four days and that's your explanation. Blame it on God.”

“It's what happened!" He exclaimed "I think. Look you have to believe me," he held on to Aziraphale's arms tightly. "There was _light_ and then the next thing I know, there's vines and leaves coming out of the bloody floors.”

Crowley paced around the room. “And it takes so _Much_ energy trying to fix all this: whatever all the Humans have done." He grimaced. "Heaven and Hell, well they've got 10,000 angels and demons. Humanity. _Well_ it's got me now. And that's a lot of work."

"I haven't had _time_ or _energy_ for this conversation, and unless you've got an idea of how to keep this lot in line,” Crowley waved at the plants sprouting over his wings. “Then I really don't need nagging right now."

Crowley kept gesturing. "6,000 years of just squeaking by, well it's / **poof./** I've been up to my eyeballs trying to deal with this. And I know I just woke up but honestly I could use another nap because I'm already exhausted just thinking about going back out there.”

“Crowley. Crowley, Calm down.” Aziraphale ordered as he made his way over to his friend. “We'll figure this out. We always do.”

Crowley folded in on himself. “I know.”

“My dear, why would you take all this on by yourself?”

“Well the other option would have gotten you in trouble.”

“Oh.”

“Well, both of us, really. But what I said earlier about new faces, well that was true. Maybe they're already here. How long was I asleep?

“Oh," Aziraphale waved a hand. "Just a day really.”

“I quite felt like I could sleep all month.” Crowley frowned and looked at his wings before popping them back away. The plants tangled around him and he looked at Aziraphale as if to say ' _see what I've been dealing with_.'

“So what all _can_ you tell me?" Aziraphale asked.

"I dunno. I'm trying to figure out what all I can do, once I figure it out I'll let you know."

“So besides growing greenery, is there more I should know about?”

“Well, That's been my most pressing concern, after making sure this place could stand up to anything Hell threw at it.”

“Right. God gave you these powers.”

“She _did._ And left me with fairy wings. I'm all twinkly”

“Well, they're kind of like opal, Milky Translucent bat wings when the light hits them.”

“What am I supposed to do with that? Opal. Moss. Ivy. Bats. And the humans, well I doubt they'll even care. Just keep trying to milk money out of everything.”

“Well.”

“Yes, I know, buck up.” Crowley ran a hand over his face. “I suppose if you don't have any ideas for me, I'll pop out and try to see just how things stand. Do me a favor though. Stay in this flat until I'm sure it's okay.” He looked at Aziraphale. “Please. I only did this because I had to keep you safe, so let me.”

“Of course, Dear.” He smiled fondly at Crowley, all arguments falling to the wayside. He paused. “At least fix your hair before you go out.”

“My hair? Seriously, that's what you're worried about?”

“Well, I kind of liked the fringe you had.”

“This is fringe.” He brushed his side swept bangs out of his face. He didn't like stuff in his eyes, and these curls kept obscuring his view. Now more than usual.

The picture he'd ended up choosing from the salon almost at random, and the model had definitely been a girl. Her face had spots. Not the bad kind, a brown type, and he'd been captivated.

His stylist told him it would cover his forehead, and he hadn't ever been concerned about that before, but apparently that was what the humans were worried about these days. At one point his forehead had been something to be envious of. Times were always changing. Everything always was.

Well, he'd been one of those before, a girl- like the model. He'd just saw the waves and thought, oh, that looks fun, let's do that. The neat little curls the stylist had crafted were rather smooshed and wild. He would have to shower to deal with his hair properly.

“It looks like it's never seen a brush. You'd kick yourself if Hell saw you in that state. At least let me run a comb through it. You can have more coffee.” He held up a new cup and a wide ornate comb. Crowley rolled his eyes, but found their little argument about hair an easy thing to fall into. Trading barbs with his angel was second nature.

“Fine. But then I need to check on things.”

Aziraphale brushed through the shaggy curls, starting at the bottom. “You've got a mop on your head. Have you even looked in the mirror?” he picked at the curls. “I don't even know where to start. The sink obviously. Looking like a drowned rat would be an improvement.”

“My hair is hardly a concern of mine right now, angel.” His eyes cut to the mirror across the room. Sure, his new shoulder length tresses were pretty wild after all this time, but they'd certainly seen worse. He even had a few days worth of hair sprouting over his face that he hadn't bothered to take care of. It really didn't go together, at least he'd hardly ever seen the combo on anyone else.

“You're really not supposed to brush curly hair dry.” Crowley pouted. He needed to shave, and he really wanted a shower but he really didn't have the energy for that right now.

“You don't bother taking proper care of your hair.” Aziraphale scoffed back. “Its more wavy than curly when it's short. Well, usually.” He frowned at a knot. "I don't know what this is."

“It's just getting pulled back in a tail, doesn't really matter. It's just hair.”

“It'll still be wild if you pull it back.”

“The humans have all kinds of hair pins. And _messy_ is in.” Crowley rolled his eyes.

“What about the braid? You used to wear a nice braid. Haven't seen you wear one in ages, though I do remember that cute little bun of yours.” He sighed wistfully.

“Doesn't really go with the style.”

“And what style is this?" Aziraphale scoffed. "You look like you stepped off of one of those album covers of yours from the 80's.”

 _“Retro_ is also in.” He rolled his eyes. “Besides, hair like this is supposed to take some time to do. It's just not getting done today.”

"The facial hair is new. You haven't done that in a while.”

Crowley shrugged, “That was entirely because I really haven't had time to deal with it.” He sighed.

“Well, it does suit you, a bit of stubble.”

Bugger it, he'd never cared about the gender binary before. Waves and stubble it was. “It starts getting itchy and it goes.” He glanced at the mirror hanging across the living room again. “Are you done? Do I pass your inspection mother dearest?”

“I suppose it's alright.” Aziraphale fluffed the hair under his fingertips. I don't suppose you'd let me run some product through it. Your ends dear.”

“Not the time, Angel.”

“Right. New look, new job, new powers. Really, if you're going to run into Hell, you'd rather look top notch, I know you.”

“Eh, it'd be boring if things stayed the same." Crowley shrugged. "And the plan is to _not_ run into anyone. Catch on.”

“It'll just take a while to get used to. You know, all this.” Aziraphale fiddled with the comb.

Crowley stood up. “Always taking ages to catch up. Well sit down with your book, I'll go check up on things. You just try and wrap your head around the situation. And try and come up with some ideas about the vines. Those suckers can grow anywhere, but it's annoying having to tear my way through them.”

Aziraphale rather wanted to protest. Crowley certainly didn't _look_ up to going out, but would insist he was fine if pressed, and he certainly looked more himself now that the manic look was out of his eyes and his hair had been smoothed down.

“Just check on thing right? Keep your head down then." Aziraphale directed him. "If you know the meaning of that.”

“Yes, yes.” Crowley stared at the front door without moving. “I could of just wore a hat.”

“I'll stay inside.” Aziraphale picked up one of the books after a moment. “And keep away from the windows if that makes you feel better.”

“Nothing is getting through those windows. Really, angel, you'll be fine.”

“Will you, Crowley?”

He shrugged. “I suppose so. Welp, toodles.”

“Ta.”

Crowley reluctantly strode through the front door. And Aziraphale spent exactly 10 seconds pretending to read his book before he slammed it shut and proceeded to pace around the flat trying to process everything that had just happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> David Tennant's stubble is apparently a thing of mine. His stubble or beard keeps working it's way into fics of mine. I think I have a problem. And I gave Crowley the haircut I got last time I went to the salon. Really it's just an excuse for long hair to come back!


	4. The Flat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two occult beings trying to figure things out.

Aziraphale wasn't quite sure what to make of Crowley's recent declaration. Clearly something had happened, though the angel wasn't quite sure what. He believed that Crowley quite _clearly_ thought this was some kind of divine work, but the rest of him wondered if there was some other explanation his friend wasn't seeing.

Though it was hard to be certain of things when Crowley wouldn't give him the full story of what had happened. Instead he was left trying to figure things out from bits and pieces. Regardless, _something_ had happened to his friend and the demon was at a loss for how what to do. Well, whenever Crowley was ready, Aziraphale would be there to listen.

Instead of focusing on things he couldn't answer, Aziraphale turned his attention to the dark flat around him. Really, if he was going to be stuck here for any amount of time, then he should get familiar with the place. Crowley hardly ever had him over to and he had spent the last day worried about his friend rather than looking around. Now he paid proper attention to his surroundings - taking in how dreary and empty the whole place felt.

<~>

Four hours later he decided that snooping had been the _worst_ plan. There was absolutely nothing in this flat. _How_ long had Crowley been on Earth? No knick-nacks, no bits and pieces, no little tokens. Did his friend _really_ live here? It certainly didn't appear so. The kitchen seemed to be the only thing with anything, the fridge was full of fancy food. Was that another thing for Aziraphale?

There were some large art pieces, a desk and a computer, and the plants. That was pretty much it. There was hardly anything else at all in the flat. Almost all the cabinets and cubbies were bare. So were most of the walls, and the floor too. Crowley didn't even have many clothes, which hardly seemed like Crowley.

<~>

“Oh thank _Heavens_ you're okay.” Aziraphale said once Crowley was safely through the door, distracting him from the emptiness.

"Thank Heavens? Bah." Crowley shook his head. Heaven had a lot to answer for in his books.

"It's an expression." Aziraphale pursed his lips.

“I just said I was going to look around. And I did. Mostly.” He pushed past Aziraphale into the living room and fell face down onto the couch.

 _“Well?"_ He prodded. "Mostly?”

Crowley shrugged. “Not really sure. Stuff _Happened._ I put out some words. Something feels _different_ though. I'm not sure how to describe it. Kind of feels like you." He flapped a hand vaguely. "Kind of feels slimy. I think that's Hell. But it's rather small, hard to pinpoint." He yawned. "Earth is so very large.” He nuzzled into one of the couch pillows with another yawn. “I'll look more tomorrow.” He closed his eyes which were once again looking more yellow than usual.

“Crowley. Seriously?" He crossed the room "Are you going to sleep on me again?”

“M'tired.”

“You need a shower.” Aziraphale tried.

“Wet hair. No.”

“You just slept all day yesterday.” He fretted.

“Not long enough.” Crowley said into the cushion.

“At the very least," Aziraphale said in exasperation, "get to bed.”

“Too far.” Crowley curled into himself.

“What am I supposed to do till you wake up?” Aziraphale bemoaned.

Crowley waved his hand vaguely. “Read.”

“Really, when you are yourself again, I want a better explanation.”

“Me too.” Crowley muttered into the cushion, then was out. Aziraphale rolled his eyes, but picked up a book. He didn't read, turning to study his friend. Out of all the things that could have happened, he didn't expect this. And really, if Crowley just needed someone to nag at him until he felt normal, Aziraphale was kind of glad that person was him.

Crowley would hate anyone else seeing him reduced to this. Aziraphale walked to the bedroom and grabbed the blanket off the bed and took it to the living room, draping it over Crowley before he settled down on the bed with his book.

<~>

This time it took two days before Crowley's eyes stirred. Aziraphale wondered if the nightmares plaguing the redhead were new, or part of a much older hurt. either way, Crowley would surely deny such an occurrence if questioned. Aziraphale was rather ashamed that he didn't know the answer to his question.

“Crowley.” Aziraphale said impatiently. "Up."

“Ugh, no." Crowley groaned. "Shower.”

Aziraphale made an impatient noise. “You have to get out of bed. You've been saying you're going to take a shower for 45 minutes.”

“Shower is moving. Bed is warm.”

“Showers are warm.”

“Gotta leave the bed.” He complained. “Wasn't I was on the couch?”

“I moved you. Obviously.” Aziraphale yanked the blankets down and away.

“Nooo.” Crowley miracled the blankets back up.

Aziraphale grabbed a glass of water out of thin air and in a fit of impatience dumped it on Crowley, soaking him.

“AP!” Crowley shrieked. “I'm awake. I'm awake. Shit.”

“Shower!”

“What, that wasn't enough?!”

“GO.”

Crowley meekly went down the hall. When he emerged from the bathroom, his hair still dripping and towel wrapped around his hips, wet skin Aziraphale tutted.

He grabbed a kitchen towel and ambled to Crowley who was leaning on the breakfast bar with a cup of coffee he'd pulled from thin air. “You'll catch a cold.”

“You dumped a cup of water on me this morning." He sullenly slurped. "Bastard.”

“You wouldn't get out of bed.” Aziraphale defended himself.

Crowley took another sip. Really, he did feel _better_ after taking a nice long hot shower, though getting out of bed had been unpleasant. At least he was still in his pants, so at least he hadn't shifted into snake form and lost all his clothes again. Really, his human form was his favorite. He hated reverting back to _that_ form, though sometimes it was convenient. This was not one of those times.

“I think I've been patient enough." Aziraphale spoke. "Lets hear details. I've been trying not to use my powers, because I don't even know if I'm supposed to. But there's nothing here. Just five books and some mildly traumatized plants.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Sorry I'm not into all the clutter like you. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Objects sprang into existence. “There, happy? I have stuff.” He paused. “Though you should probably try to keep not doing things, well at least till I know more.”

“You said you think Downstairs is here?”

“Might be.” He shrugged. “It's like a smell almost, bit stronger now, but still hard to pinpoint.”

“A slimy smell.”

He shrugged. He was trying to describe something he didn't quite understand. He ran his hand over his face. “You really think I should keep this?” He fiddled with the scraggly hair on his chin. It was longer now, and he wasn't quite sure the dark red scruff suited him.

“Well if you fix it up, it could be rather dashing. Bit sloppy now.”

Crowley waved a hand and it got shorter, neater. He'd do more with it when he could be bothered to look in a mirror.

“This whole hair thing is a bit of a difference.” Aziraphale crossed the room. “Your haven't done curls in ages.”

“The humans have all sorts of tools they use to style their hair. Kind of fun way to pass the time, though it's a lot easier to just wave a hand and be done with it. Not the same though. I can always tell. Looks better when you do it by hand.”

“Well I think those loose curls suit you better than whatever you had a few days ago. You look less like one of those rock stars you're so fond of."

“Probably right.” Crowley brushed aside the wet curls that were forming in his wet hair as it dried and yawned. “Any ideas about these?” He asked as he pulled his new wings out.

“Well they're already mossing over.” Aziraphale pulled one of the large wings over to examine it, and the fuzzy covering growing over it.

“It's a mite chilly in here.”

“Yes, no feathers.” He shot a dry look at Crowley “And it be less chilly if you bothered to dry off and get dressed after you showered, not just hung out in a towel.

Crowley stuck out his tongue. “Gotta let the hair dry first. Otherwise me shirt gets all wet and sticky.” He twisted to look at wings. It was an awkward position. The moss seemed to spring out of the boning, and he couldn't see the ivy's origins, so they probably came from his back. The membranes between and bones felt weird, where before there had only been feathers.

“I've never seen anything quite like it.” Aziraphale traced a finger across the wing, and Crowley shuddered.

“I felt that.”

“Sensitive.” Aziraphale noted.

They were quite a bit larger than the feathered ones had been, and they got colder easier. They were also apparently able to feel more than his old wings had. He wondered what it would be like to feel the rain on his wings. Suddenly Crowley wanted another shower.

“So w _hat_ am I now?” He wondered out loud.

“I have no idea.” Aziraphale pulled his hands back

“Spectacular. And these?” He pointed to a vine that was trailing down his wing, growing as they talked. “You come up with any solutions?”

“Well it's not like we have to focus to bring on the feathers when we call out our wings. I think you just need to start thinking of the plants like the feathers, just part of the wings.”

“Right." He drawled. "Because I'm a garden now.”

Crowley pulled the wings back in, trying to focus on the moss and vines. He wasn't sure he succeeded entirely, though some of it did go. He tried again a couple times till the moss at least stayed put. He wondered if the moss and ivy was something he could control, of if it was just something the power just did. He'd have to practice with his powers at some point to get a better grasp on them.

“My dear," Aziraphale said. "You took on this.”

“I know I did. I'm just trying to figure out all the details." Crowley set his mug down. "You're supposed to be safe, that's all that matters.”

“What about _you,_ Crowley?" Aziraphale fretted. "You have to be safe too.”

“Well, it's not like I've got a horde of angels and demons to do my bidding." He shrugged. "Humanity doesn't even know about me, and I'm not one for politics. I prefer to stay out of the Limelight, thank you." He grimaced in distaste. "I don't even know how I'm supposed to fix everything that's wrong, especially in so little time. And it's not like I can do it constantly looking over my shoulder.”

“We'll figure it out, Dear." Aziraphale assured him.

“Influence some rich billionaires to do some climate change stuff, I suppose is a good start." He tapped on the counter. "And work with this.” He wiggled his fingers and green sparks drifted down and out the window.

The garden outside was still being particularly verdant and everyone in the building was enjoying its splendor. And his neighbors were all pleasantly surprised at how well their plants were doing; even the ones that had been over or under watered.

“Yes. I suppose. I'll start putting together details.” Aziraphale murmured.

“Oh please, do you even know how to work a computer?" Crowley scoffed. "I'll take care of work. You...”

“Yes, I know. Stay in the flat." He said petulantly. "Keep out of trouble. Watch you run yourself into the ground."

Crowley winced at the tone. “It's only for a little longer." He tried to soothe the angel. "Maybe those feelers I put out the other day will have more info. Don't get your feathers all ruffled, there's plenty of stuff for you to look through now. I made sure there was a bookshelf, though I'm not too clear on what's on it.” He stretched. “Let me get dressed then and I'll pop out and see how things are going.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Stuff is happening. Finally. The scene is set, now the story can really start :D


	5. Another Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so time passes

Aziraphale spent the next couple hours sorting through the things Crowley had called forth. He probably hadn't meant to bring just all of _this_ into reality. Hopefully it hadn't been stolen from someone else's flat or they'd have a lot of explaining to do.

There was indeed a bookshelf in all the mess, a great big industrial looking thing; full of books - though they were rather pedestrian. The kitchen was fully stocked now; not just the fridge. The bathroom boasted quite a bit more product, and the plants had rather multiplied again. Really, they were going to have quite a job sorting through all this.

The flat had gone from downright empty to far too crowded. Most of it was fancy gaudy stuff that was more in line with Crowley's tastes; but there were some homey comfy touches as well, no doubt for him. The reading chair and lamp in the bedroom were particularly him, and he felt fuzzy that Crowley wanted him in his sanctuary, though that would have been nice to have a few days ago.

He'd spent the last two days pacing around bored out of his mind. He didn't even know how to turn on the telly. There were no remotes or wires that he could see. He didn't even sleep. It had been a sort of torture, knowing something was wrong, and knowing he couldn't do anything, and was stuck here.

He heard the key turn in the lock after a couple of hours. Crowley looked drained, but his yellow iris' were close to their normal size, none of the manic panic from earlier days.

Crowley raised his hands. “Before you start in on me, no, I didn't hear much.”

“Great," he said annoyed. "Another day stuck in here.”

“Is it so bad being with me?” Crowley frowned, hurt.

“Well you're unconscious when you're here, Dear." Aziraphale said soothingly. "At least tell me how to turn on the telly.”

“You don't care for the telly.”

“It's some sort of sound, at the very least!”

“You have to talk to it.” He waved over to a small cylinder set into the wall. “It's a smart TV. One of my things. Clever, but altogether annoying." He inclined his head, "Sort of my specialty.”

Aziraphale crossed his arms. “I'm not talking to the telly.”

Crowley pinched the skin between his eyes. “It's modern. And it plays music too." Aziraphale continued to stare at him."Not your thing I suppose, you would prefer a remote?” He held out something thin that at least had buttons.

“Yes, thank you." Aziraphale plucked up the remote. “And you'll probably want to look through the stuff you made. I'm not quite sure you meant for all of this _stuff."_ He waved his arms around.

“Ugh." Crowley made a _face_ "That sounds _Terrible.”_

“It'll be fun!" Aziraphale bounced. "There's all sorts of fancy coffee things you'll like. We can learn to make cappuccinos.” He paused. “Well, at least _I_ can. You can work on your stuff, and I'll make the best of it, at least until we figure out if we're safe."

“I'm _sorry_ Aziraphale.” His lips were pressed tightly together

“My dear, whatever for?”

“I feel like I'm keeping you locked up here.” Crowley looked pained.

Aziraphale chuckled. “Well, you rather are. But for a _good_ reason. And it's not like I was doing much. The bookshop will wait. You're more important.”

Crowley made a funny sound.

“You alright dear?”

“Er, yes." He cleared his throat. "Stuff then?”

“Oh yes, there's quite a bit." Aziraphale gestured. "I suspect you'll want to get rid of a lot, though some of it will be handy. It's rather crowded now, but at least it actually looks lived in now.”

Crowley looked around and crinkled his nose. “It feels human, all this stuff.”

“Well if you're going to stand for Humanity, you should be as Human as you can, shouldn't you?”

“I suppose so.” Crowley picked across the room and looked into his green room, then yelped. “My plants! What in the _world?!_ There's more!”

“Yes, there are quite a few.” Aziraphale said dryly.

“I don't even recognize some of these. I doubt they've been on Earth in thousands of years. Just what am I supposed to do with all of these?”

Aziraphale made his way over. “I suppose you could give some away, I mean you do have lots of neighbors that are probably sick to death of your melodramatic shouting."

Crowley ran his hand over his face. “This morning I had too little, now I have too much - and all these plants, and my powers, and I don't even know what...”

“One thing at a time, Crowley." Aziraphale put a hand soothingly on his shoulder. "You're trying to focus on too much. Lets start in the kitchen.”

He herded Crowley into the room. “Lets just go through this room. Anything you don't want, put it here on the table." Aziraphale tapped a table top, that rather hadn't been there this morning. "We'll sort through this room. That's all you have to do today.”

“Clean the kitchen?”

“Yes. We're cleaning the kitchen, Getting familiar with everything.”

Crowley chewed on his lip. “This is my flat. I'm familiar with it.”

“This stuff is all new," Aziraphale gestured around. "And I'm not familiar with this flat." He motioned with his hands. "So then show me around.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's going to get rather domestic from here. Did I write 10k worth of set up to get an AU set up so I could write a bunch of dates? Yes. Yes I did. I have a lot of scenes written and planned out, but if there's a dating trope you'd like to see, hit me up. :D


	6. Domesticy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley certainly feels like he's living his best life, or at least trying to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doing some edits and cleaning things up. Nov 2019

Crowley rather liked his new kitchen table. It was a tall metal thing, with glass over the metal top and shiny matching bar stools with red velvet cushions. Why _hadn't_ he had a table before? It was even a great height for him. He was glad tall things had become en vogue.

And it was _so_ nice to sit around and drink coffee first thing in the morning. Much nicer than standing at the bar. The best part was that occasionally Aziraphale would swing his legs when he wasn't paying much attention to himself and got caught up in conversation. It was adorable. He just looked so much smaller.

<~>

It had taken them almost a week to sort through everything in his flat. And dare he say it, it had almost been kind of fun. Hearing Aziraphale's opinions on things, moving stuff around so it made more sense, being all domestic.

They'd started with the kitchen, then the bedroom, the bathroom, even the office. Each room was thoroughly picked over from top to bottom, and the large boxes Crowley kept coming up with were filled up with useless junk he'd never be able find a use for. He did keep the 'fancy coffee stuff' in the kitchen though. It would get used.

The extra bits and pieces from the flat, Aziraphale insisted find their new home with the needy, so he was quite content to send things off to the council and other places and let them sort through it. And there was quite a lot. Really he hadn't meant to create all of these things, the power had just got out of hand - as it kept doing. At least the things he _really_ liked, or were too large to move, were to his tastes.

The Green Room had been one room he'd mostly gone through on his own. It was his own little sanctuary; though Aziraphale was welcome in it. The angel at least had the good sense not to weigh in too much about which plants to keep, other than saying maybe Crowley should think about getting a place with room for an actual garden, not just a smattering of plants in a room. Crowley didn't yell at them anymore though. Just being around them keep them green and lively.

Every day He would spent time sorting through his plants, as they kept multiplying overnight. Crowley after he had foisted as many off on the neighbors as he could, he had taken to just leaving the spares outside parks near the street with a “Free, take me” sign.

Undoubtedly, someone was wondering where these plants were coming from, but a few folks must have appreciated the free plants that kept suddenly appearing, because they did seem to disappear - which was that was all that mattered. And of course he checked on them to make sure they found a new home, and took care of any left until they did.

He couldn't just abandon them! He was hardly going to leave them without a care or second thought, but there was no way he was keeping all of these plants. His flat was simply overrun. He wasn't a gardener for crying out loud. Plants had simply been a hobby, not a way of life.

At least that was true before. Now there were just so bloody _many_ of them.

<~>

Between learning to use his powers and sifting through all the junk in his flat, he'd been reading tons of romance novels and watching lots of romantic movies; and hiding those last two things from Aziraphale had been really trying. Especially since the angel was always there, and there were only so much time he could hide in the bathroom with a truly embarrassing book before Aziraphale would think something was wrong and that Crowley was avoiding his company.

The movies he could at least play off as being his tech fascination. He'd just thrown a bunch of other random movies in with the Rom-coms so as not to raise Aziraphale's suspicions. They had watched a lot of movies as of late bundled up on the couch sharing hot cocoa and popcorn.

While he tried to gauge the situation, he made an effort to try and keep Aziraphale from being bored too much again. The telly was often on or classical music was floating down from unseen speakers. He brought treats home; takeout from Aziraphale's favorite restaurants to be eaten at his new table, with candles and a table cloth even. He was reasonably sure that candlelit dinners were romantic, though Styrofoam was probably not. He'd get this right eventually.

And presents, well there were quite a lot of those too. Old crumbling books of poetry and such, sweets and chocolates, and wines (even some of those desert wines that Aziraphale was rather fond of but that Crowley found all too sweet, much preferring the red.) There were exotic fruits, and soft tartan blankets and even a bow-tie that had caught his attention and all but screamed _"Aziraphale."_

Really, he was trying his hardest to all but throw himself at his angel. Curling up and watching the movies, well it was a form of sweet torture. Aziraphale talked to the TV like the characters could hear him, keeping up a steady stream of commentary and Crowley had to hide his fond smiles behind bites of popcorn. It was just so endearing.

Board games had gone over less well. Aziraphale was terribly competitive, and a little bit of a cheat, though card games were slightly better, at least Crowley didn't feel like he was liable to walk out of the room with a knife in his belly. It was fun, whenever he caught Aziraphale cheating, he'd cheat back just as badly.

<~>

Trying to figure out his powers with Aziraphale was swell. Having someone to talk everything over with was nice. Coming home to a not empty flat, well that was great too. Sure, the situation was bizarre, and he wasn't quite sure where he stood, but at least it wasn't alone. And all his wards he'd dropped seemed to be doing their jobs. Even the bookshop had been protected to the best of his ability.

<~>

“Some sorry person has got my job.” Crowley flopped on his _much_ comfier couch one evening next to Aziraphale. The angel was halfheartedly watching some cooking show and turned his full attention to Crowley.

It had taken Crowley almost two weeks to get here to the point where he was past sleeping himself into oblivion every couple of days. At least he didn't feel so bone jarringly tired and was up to walking around the planet, though he spent the whole time looking over his shoulders.

His vine problem was also getting better as he gained more control over his powers, though he still didn't think of the leaves as part of him. Trying to learn to gain more control his powers had been a headache, but Aziraphale was always there talking him through every snag he hit.

“Don't even recognize them," Crowley said as he shifted on the couch and brushed aside his curls. "Though there are a lot of demons in Hell. There's an angel here too somewhere. Didn't see who, but I could certainly feel them. Getting better at that. I think. Sensing them.”

“Oh, good.”

Crowley wiggled his shoulders. “I suppose I'll have to have words with Hell. Been putting it off, but I suppose I should clear up anything, make sure they don't get too comfortable here. But I think it's okay for you to go out.”

Crowley chewed on his lip. “I'd find out who is there on your side. And maybe find out exactly where I stand, cause I'm really not sure, and you're probably in a better position than me to find out. I'll check in with everything again tomorrow, I suppose.”

Crowley sighed. “And if we can figure out some way to stop me from miracle growing everything in proximity, that'd be great. It's really draining walking around town, and I doubt I'm supposed to perk up the grass in the garden, though if they want something large scale done, they're really asking for a lot."

He twisted on the couch to look at Aziraphale. "I mean, climate change doomsday is just around the corner. And I'm just one person. Though it's better now than it was a couple of weeks ago. Maybe downstairs won't be paying too much attention to me. I mean, what's one person going to do?”

“Well you're not alone." Aziraphale assured him. "You have me, for whatever it counts.”

Crowley gazed at him fondly. “I wouldn't have it any other way.”

“We'll figure this out. You don't have to do this solus." He smiled comfortingly. "Let me go and try and talk things through Upstairs.”

“Carefully.” Crowley warned. “And try not to be, well so _you.”_

“What does that even mean?” Aziraphale scoffed as he pulled on his coat.

Crowley imagined Aziraphale as a little terrier with it's teeth sunk into a much bigger animal being shaken about and making a general nuisance. “Well, just keep your head down." He gestured. "You know, like you told me.”

“I'll be fine. And I'll be back.”

Crowley pursed his lips. “Make sure you use your key.”

“Yes, I know, you've told me. And to bring no one here.”

“So, you're coming back?” He asked tentatively

“You don't want me to?” Aziraphale sounded hurt.

“No, I do! I just thought, you'd be glad to be free of this place.”

“I'm just going out for a bit, dear. I'll be back - tonight - I promise.” Aziraphale studied him before he slipped out the door, locking it behind him. The former demon was finally starting to come back to himself, and Aziraphale _truly_ was grateful to get out of that dreadful flat for a while.

He stopped by the book shop first and packed a small bag. Sure, he might not need much, but there really were some things he'd rather not be without. And it was like seeing an old friend; comfortable, reassuring, and welcoming. Once that was done gathering things up he set about drawing a careful circle and symbols.

Uriel answered him. “Aziraphale. You're late.”

“Yes. I suppose I've been rather busy.”

"Things are underway.”

“Yes, when aren't they?” He smiled nervously.

“Check your post. You've got mail.”

“Right.” He said.

“That should clear up a lot of questions, though you should expect a visit soon. Gabriel sends support. The details are all in the mail.”

“Well I suppose I should check my mail then. Anything else?” He asked.

“Yes, do be on the lookout for unfriendly faces." Uriel said. "It seems like there's been a status change there on Earth. Until the dust settles, I'd keep a careful watch on things.”

“Careful watch and check the post.” He tugged on the hem of his vest.

“Call back after you've filled yourself in on details.”

“Right.” He ended the Call. It wasn't like he could tell them that he rather had more of an idea of the situation than he should.

<~>

There were indeed letters waiting for him in his mailbox; most of them were junk mail and solicitations, but there was also a letter from Heaven. It was quite odd to read a few brief sentences informing him that the demon Crowley's status had changed and was 'uncertain' and there was another angel dispatched here on Earth to assist him in-case this all turned out to be some trick Hell was pulling.

Really, Aziraphale thought, it seemed like he might actually know more about the situation then Heaven did, though he was hardly going to admit to that. Still, he packed the letter into his overnight bag, to show Crowley, and locked up the bookshop before heading back to the flat and his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the positive feedback! Yes, I played around and set up this AU so that I could have lots of dating. And while I want to get them out of the flat, it's taking some time to arrange, At least fun stuff is happening now.


	7. Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the courting commence.

Crowley stared at one of his plants, unblinking. It had been a quiet few days. Things were finally starting to feel normal again. Aziraphale spent his days at the bookshop, though he spent the evenings here at the flat.

They'd taken to watching the news, if only for ideas on what Crowley should try and fix next. Once the news was over, they'd usually watch whatever show was on next, or Crowley would pop in a movie while they curled into the couch. Not quite close to each other, but it was progress, he thought. Getting to sit next to his angel.

His mobile rang, distracting him. Aziraphale was the only one who called his mobile anymore. “They think I've gone soft.” He said in way of greeting as he plucked his phone out of his pocket.

“Who? Downstairs?” Aziraphale's concerned voice trailed over the line

“Well them too, probably. Everyone thinks I've gone soft, I'm sure. But I meant the plants.” Crowley poked at a leaf. “How dare you get even bigger? You weren't doing your best before?”

“Yelling at the plants isn't going to change anything.”

“It makes me feel better.”

“You have neighbors you know." He sighed "And of course they're growing, you've got earth powers now.” he paused. "And yelling doesn't help. You get all guilty now that you can feel them.

"Do not." Crowley tapped his fingertips along the mister and sprayed the plant angrily. “Oh. Speaking of power, I grew forests today. Lots of them. On islands.” He popped his neck. “What did you do?”

“Well, I didn't call to hear you argue with your plants. I've heard something.”

“So what'd ya hear?”

“I was saying that upstairs at least is acknowledging your new status. Earth is no longer without a representative.”

“Oh good then, that's one less shoulder to be looking over.” He moved on to the next plant.

“Forests then, you said.”

“Oh yes, great big ones. You'll have to let me show them off. Though if I keep this up, someone's going to start asking questions. I'm running out of isolated spots to set bloomin'." He studied the plant. Was that leaf bigger than it was a moment ago? Ugh, now his plants were getting uppity. "And really this whole thing would be a lot easier if the humans weren't actively trying to destroy themselves."

He moved on to the next plant. "The ice I think is a bigger problem. Gotta figure out what to do about that. Inherit a whole bloody planet and the thing's melting on me.” He wrinkled his nose and spritzed the plants one final time before he spun to leave the room. “You fancy a cruise?”

 _“What?"_ Crowley could almost picture the face the angel was making. "A cruise? Where'd that come from?”

“Well, gotta get up to the Arctic somehow. And maybe we can figure out what to do about the ocean while we're out. A vacation sounds rather nice doesn't it." He pulled out his chair and sat down, kicking up his feet. "Oh, come on, let me tempt you away from your books.”

“Tempting isn't your thing anymore. You're not a demon anymore. You're officially an Occult Entity.”

“Entity? I like the sound of that. Well if I'm not tempting anyone anymore, then you should just do it because after 6,000 years of work you deserve to blow it all off.”

“It's hardly a vacation if you're working.” Aziraphale huffed.

“Just an excuse then. Maybe I want to see whales. Do some human stuff. See what it's all about." He smirked, "Indulge me.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Fine then, a cruise to the Arctic. When?”

“When does it matter? Sod it. I've got no plans this week.”

“Well you can hardly expect me to drop everything right this second.”

“How long do you need?” Crowley dropped his feet and leaned over his keyboard. “I'm looking up tickets.”

“Of course you are.” Aziraphale said with all the patience of a being who has been dragged on hundreds of impromptu things.

“What about next Thursday?” He clicked on a link. “Let's go see some ice.”

“Fine." Aziraphale relented. "You'd just go without me if I stayed. You'll have to tell me what to pack though.”

“Eh, you know me so well. Don't worry, I'll take care of it.” He sighed. “I need a bloody assistant, that's what I need. How am I supposed to track down all these people by myself? I swear I've spent more time making phone calls and on the computer in the last week than I have in all my years on Earth.”

“I thought you'd become rather a workaholic as of late.”

“I don't like this.” Crowley frowned. “I move road signs at night and make trouble. Doing all this, well, it just feels decidedly good, and doing things your lot approves of is giving me some major whiplash.”

“Well I'm trying to help. I may not be the best at technology, but I am a person that can easily work my way into certain circles when need be. And at the very least, we have a common goal, preserving the planet and peace.”

“Exactly, Wip. Lash.”

“My dear, you worry too much.” Aziraphale cradled the phone. “Let's go on this cruise. You can try out some of your powers, see more of what you can do. And you can also relax a little, away from your phone. That's my stipulation. If were going on vacation, then it's a vacation. You can test out your powers, but no phone calls.”

“Really, Angel?”

“You're going to _wear_ yourself out!” 

“Hardly. I think we're beyond all that now." He changed the subject. "What do you say to dinner?”

“At the Ritz?”

“No, some other place. You'll like it." He assured. "I have plans. Pick you up at six. No need to dress up.”

Aziraphale laughed. “I hadn't agreed. But that sound splendid. Six indeed.”

“Great. I'll see you then.” Crowley clicked off his phone and clicked the confirm link, printing out the confirmation before folding it up to give to Aziraphale. Really he wasn't sure just _what_ he was planning on doing there, but at least it would get him closer to where he needed to be.

<~>

Crowley knocked on the shop desk at the agreed upon time, pulling Aziraphale's attention from the book he was reading behind the counter.

“Oh, hello, dear. How was your day?” He looked over Crowley for the signs that he had spent far too much energy, but apparently was satisfied that he was up to dinner. Crowley was dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans, a long sleeved dark red button down, his usual black vest, and shades.

“I'm fine. Come on.” He dragged Aziraphale out of the shop and into his car, though instead of driving to a restaurant, he drove them a bit out of the way, to one of the parks he had come across when he was re-homing more plants. There was a lovely lake here, full of ducks and fish. Crowley parked the car.

“What's all this then?”

“It's a picnic.” Crowley held a basket up he'd plucked from the back seat. There was a checkered blanket folded on top.

“Oh, _splendid._ And what a day for it.” Aziraphale sighed dreamily. “I do love a nice spring day. Not to hot, not to chilly.”

“You sound like a weather reporter." 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes.

"Come on, Angel. Lets go find a spot."

Aziraphale walked after him. Crowley did find a nice spot overlooking the lake and spread the blanket out before setting the basket down and unpacking stuff.

There were little Tupperware; olives, nuts, cheeses, dried fruits, deviled eggs, mini pickles, cucumber slices and tiny little sandwiches. Crowley spoiled him. There were even two wine glasses and a bottle of Riesling. Crowley did up plates for each of them, passing one over.

“Oh, this looks scrummy.” Aziraphale picked up one of the sandwiches from his plate and took a bite. “Absolutely fantastic.” He pointed at a small brown bag. “Say, what's that?”

“It's duck feed. Apparently bread's not good for them. Who knew?” Crowley passed the bag over. “I figure if we're going to stuff ourselves, may as well feed the ducks too. It's got corn and oats and stuff.”

Crowley poured glasses for each of them, then took a sip.

“So these powers,” Aziraphale said around bites of a cucumber sandwich. “I mean, you can change the environment. What about people?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well what's the cut off? I can miracle broken bones and aches and pains. You keep making plants out of nothing, can you do anything with living creatures?”

“I haven't really wanted to try." He admitted. "What if it goes all funny?”

“The hospital then. There are doctors nearby, and at the very least, you can perk up the flowers for the patients.”

“Those people are delicate!”

“We don't have to. It'd just be good to know your limits.”

“Well lets call that a self imposed limit for now. I'll stick to plants, and once I've got a grasp on things, I'll start small. Maybe a butterfly or two. Then a dog. People last.”

“Sounds reasonable. I suppose starting off with people is a bit much.” He closed his eyes, feeling the sun on his face, and when he opened his eyes, Crowley was looking at him. Aziraphale wished he wasn't wearing sunglasses so he could actually see his eyes.

Aziraphale wanted to ask him just why things had changed so much between them lately, but he also didn't want to break whatever spell had fallen over them. Spending much more time with Crowley was extremely wonderful.

He didn't know how long they sat like that, but eventually the Tupperware were empty, and afterwards, they walked by the edge of the lake passing the bag between them as the sun set.

“Oh, I booked it. The cruise.” Crowley dug the paper out of his pocket. “Here's all the details. Just be ready then. I'm not even sure yet what I plan to do, but I'm sure we'll think of something.”

“Not just going to yell at the ice for melting?” He quirked his brow.

“Well I might. But ice probably doesn't get scared the way plants do. I figure it needs more of a hands on approach. I'll think up something”

“Yes." He said dryly. "You're more the figure things out on the spot type, aren't you?.”

“Well I don't hear any ideas from you.”

“I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to discuss it while we get up there.” He glanced down at the sheet. “I mean, it's two weeks on a boat.”

“Well, as long as it doesn't end with us freezing to discorporation, I'll call it a success.”

“No, rather not have that.” Aziraphale paused. “You're sure _they're_ not going to be a bother?”

Crowley shrugged. “I mean it's been a few weeks. If they were going to do something, I expect they'd have done it already." He shrugged. "I haven't exactly felt anything like Beez or anyone important. I suspect they're worried that perhaps I know more about them than they'd like. How they'd operate and stuff.”

“Stuff. You're so eloquent with words.”

“Well you're the bookworm.”

“Yes, and you like beebops.” He made a face.

“The Bentley likes Queen. Therefore _I_ like Queen. And honestly Freddy is as the kids would say #Goals.”

“I have no idea what that means. What's are you doing with your fingers?” He indicated the overlapping V's that Crowley had made.

“It's a hashtag. An internet thing.”

“Oh me-mes. James was trying to explain them to me last week.”

“James the bus stop boy?" Crowley pulled down his shades to look over them. "No. I'll tell his mom to ground him. Just stop.”

Aziraphale smiled, rather proud of himself to have gotten such a reaction. “The young are always coming up with something.”

“Leave it to them. My ears can't take it.”

“I can be hip.” Aziraphale pulled on his bow-tie.

“No you can't.” Crowley made a face. "No one says hip anymore."

“You don't hear me commenting on your terrible dancing.”

“You do." Crowley shot back. "Rather loudly. All the time. I think I'm allowed to complain when you subject me to your terrible lingo." He frowned. "Besides, you know exactly one dance. And no one else on the planet does it anymore.”

“The Gavotte was fun. Bouncy. I like bouncy.”

“It looks ridiculous without all those ruffles and frills.”

“Well, all dances look better with ruffles and frills. Maybe you'll keep that in mind the next time you subject anyone to your dancing.”

“Careful, Angel. I'll take you clubbing. You'd hate that.”

“I haven't been in a club in ages.”

“Well they've rather changed. Dens of Sin.” He wrinkled his nose.

“Clubs have always been Dens of Sin.”

“Then what were you doing there?”

“I was bored, ok?” He looked guilty.

“I learn something new about you every day.” Crowley glanced down at the mostly empty picnic basket they'd repacked and tucked the duck feed away in it. “It's getting dark.”

“Shall we go home?”

Crowley paused. “Home? You want me to drop you off?”

“Oh, no. I meant the flat.”

“Oh. Yes. Home.” Crowley swallowed.

“Splendid, dear. I'm glad we cleared that up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so the next scene isn't written yet, but I have a bunch of stuff for the chapter AFTER it. So I guess I need to get writing, huh?


	8. Cruising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Entity and an Angel go on holiday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, but this whole chapter was sparked by the idea of Crowley in novelty glasses and was powered by Nelira since it was simply written as in my rough draft, and I've only looked this over once, I'll give it a proper edit later

They had matching black luggage which Crowley wheeled behind them. They didn't really need it. Crowley could make anything they needed, but he was really throwing himself into the tourist character. He even made them matching hoodies to wear; “To the Arctic or Bust”.

Sure, he'd brought lots of warm clothes and plenty of books for Aziraphale, but he'd also had a ridiculously fancy camera around his neck and with the fanny pack on his hip, he looked rather American. To finish off the outfit, Crowley had miracled a pair of novelty sunglasses into existence. They had penguins on the top.

It was a pity they weren't going somewhere tropical, Crowley thought. He could have worn some truly horrible Hawaiian button downs. If anyone on this ship going to be tacky, it'd be him. The sunglasses would have to do.

They'd be covered in coats and sweaters most of the time he supposed. He was torn between the desire to manifest a truly horrible looking coat and wanting to look really nice. It was a fine line he walked often. But decided that his glasses were enough and settled on a plain black thing.

Loading up on the cruise ship had gone rather smoothly, though it had taken ages to get on board. And then they'd been directed to a theater. And there had been safety videos, and they'd donned life jackets, and finally they'd been allowed into the room which was to be theirs for the next two weeks. There was a round little window, and a telly.

Of course, there was only one bed, but that hardly mattered. Crowley would octopus Aziraphale during the night, but the angel was more than adept at dealing with the skinnier man while still flipping pages in his book.

The bed held a towel creature, though Crowley wasn't sure what it was, some kind of bird perhaps. And there were brochures and pamphlets tucked under it. Aziraphale grabbed the booklets and flipped through them.

“Oh, the northern lights” Aziraphale read off, wading through the descriptions. “And whale watching, how splendid. You mentioned whales.”

“Hiking too,” Crowley looked over his shoulder. “That should at least let me get a feel for things.”

“Yes, can't forget work. Oh, there's natural spas when we stop in Iceland! Hot springs!”

“I thought you'd enjoy that.” Crowley said as he glanced over the side cabin. “Though I'm not sure how I feel about this boat. Could do without all the rolling about.”

“It's a boat, dear. And much better than those old ones. Smoother at least. Besides, we're hardly out of port, lets see how it does out on the ocean.”

“Yes, it's like when the automobile came along. I hated having to ride horses.”

“That's because you have no padding.”

Crowley jumped on that explanation. Much better reason than the fact he kept falling off the blasted things. Riding side saddle had been a nightmare.

Aziraphale went on to the next pamphlet. “Oh, there's so much to do! There's a spa here on the boat too. We can get massages, oh, and there's dinner shows. There's shops we can browse around on board before we stop off in Greenland. And the buffet is open 24-7.”

“You'll have this whole trip planned on day one. Take it easy, Angel, we've got time.”

Aziraphale dropped the paper back onto the bed. _“Relax._ I'm pretty sure that's what I'm supposed to be saying to you.”

Crowley draped himself on the bed. “Like you said, at least let us get out of port.”

“Fine. But there's a dinner tonight for us to go to. We're not missing that.”

“Yes, yes.” Crowley plucked off his shades. “But that's not for hours. I fully intend not to think until then, they certainly crammed us full trying to get everything in.”

“It wasn't so bad, you're just impatient.”

“Humans always find the way to take the joy out of everything. Have you seen what they've done to flying? None of that wind through your hair, it's all waiting, security checks and a metal tube through the sky.” He scrunched up his nose. “And I mean, I know a lot of that's my fault, but now I'm having to deal with it again and it's really annoying.”

_“Well.”_

“Yes, I know. Evil and all that." He frowned. "Come on, I'm neutral now, at least. More of a chaotic force. I mean, I'd like to /not/ see my planet burn. That doesn't make me a good person.”

“Crowley, dear," Aziraphale said. "You've always been a good person. It's just now you might be more willing to admit it.”

“Not this again, Angel.” He stamped across the room huffily.

“I'll say it until you listen.”

“I can't hear you.” Crowley plugged his ears with his finger tips.

“Fine. Be that way.”Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “It's not my fault you keep getting caught up in whatever evil plans you made years ago.”

Crowley stuck his tongue out.

“I'm going to unpack. Enjoy your nap. Maybe I'll peek around the ship too, get familiar.”

Crowley stretched out on the bed. “Wake me before dinner. Gotta do my hair.”

<~>

The cruise ship photographer winded between tables before dinner as they set off, taking pictures of each group. Crowley would get whatever overpriced photos the cruise offered, even though he had his own camera. It was about the _experience._

It turned out, the cold weather was less of a help than Crowley thought it'd be. Aziraphale had on some truly hideous sweater that seemed to get only tackier as time went on. It was mocking him.

“Sweaters and blinky lights, I think that was one of mine. The ugly sweater. Come on, turn that off, you'll blind someone. It's not even Christmas.”

“Dear, it's hardly a Christmas sweater, we're on holiday. And it's spring”

Had Aziraphale picked this outfit to try and get some sort of reaction out of him? Well two could play at that game.

“You did this to yourself.” Crowley said as he slid on a pair of comically oversize pair of neon green glasses he'd materialized.

“There will be _pictures!"_ He said scandalized.

“If I have to put up with that sweater, then these babies are staying.”

Aziraphale scoffed. “Green's not your color.”

'Shut up, Here, our turn.”

Aziraphale stared at him disapprovingly. “Well, if that's how you want to remember it, who am I to stop you? Come on dearest. Smile for the camera.”

“Green looks fabulous on me.” Crowley scoffed once the photographer had moved on. “Goes well with my hair.”

Aziraphale smiled fondly, brushing aside the curls from Crowley's face. “Yes, but I doubt neon green is a look you want to pull of often.”

“You two are adorable.” The old lady across from them leaned over and smiled. “How long have you known each other? You remind me of me and my Horrace.”

“Oh, we've known each other forever and ever.” Aziraphale smiled. “He's been so busy with work lately, Some time off is just what we need.”

Crowley turned to her, pushing up his glasses with his pinky. “Yes, a holiday is rather called for.” He mock frowned. “You know, you have never taken me on a vacation before.”

Aziraphale sassed back. “I thought your whole life was a vacation.”

Crowley made a dramatic 'Oh' face in return. A point for Aziraphale then.

“Well.” Crowley grumbled. “Certainly making up for it now. This new job of mine.”

“No work. At least not tonight.” Aziraphale picked up his water glass. “Here's to our first official vacation, may it be the first of many.”

Crowley tapped his glass with his own. “Not really the sort of toast you make with water, but cheers to that.” He smiled as he drank. “You want to go on more holidays with me?

“Yes, I rather think I do.” Aziraphale smiled back softly.

“We're just getting started." He warned. "Maybe you'll be sick of me by the end of this trip.”

“I doubt that's something to worry about dear." He looked over Crowley's shoulder "Oh, here comes the waiter.”

<~>

The northern lights were indeed splendid. They stargazed at night under the moon, drinking hot cocoa while curled up in blankets on the deck. The wind was nippy, but it was rather pleasant to see the colors in the sky, even better that they were sharing this together. Aziraphale ate too much, even though the buffet was nowhere near as nice as the foods they were used to.

They got massages together and drank fizzy champagne and played card games on the deck. And shuffleboard too though Crowley mainly watched with a smirk on his face, but cheered him on. There were conversations shared with fellow passengers, theater shows, spa visits, and lots of shared dinners.

<~>

Aziraphale had tons of ugly sweaters and for every ugly sweater Aziraphale wore, Crowley would don just as garish novelty glasses and act like there was nothing strange about his appearance. The funky glasses would have been more at home on a summer holiday to the Bahamas, but Crowley had a way of making them fit in with his gloves and jacket.

Crowley had packed Aziraphale mittens of all things, though they were a nice cream color and lined with soft padding. The puffy jacket had been less well received.

“ _It's what all the humans are wearing right now.” Crowley explained, zipping him up._

“ _I look like a marshmallow.” Aziraphale pouted.  
_

“ _I've got one too.”_

“ _Mine's white. At least yours is black.”_

“ _Oh, if you don't like the color, change it. I just thought white suited you.”_

“ _Well, thank you, I suppose.”_

_Crowley pulled a thick cap over Aziraphale's head. “To match your gloves.”_

“ _I'll never be able to stand up if I fall.” Aziraphale tutted. “You'll have to roll me off the ship.”_

“ _It's not that bad. It's Spring. It could be colder.”_

“ _Bloody cold enough.”_

“ _Hey, I'm cold blooded. If anyone's allowed to be grumpy in the chill, it's be me. Now come on, lets disembark. We've got a tour to make."_

<~>

The tour in Greenland, well, it was splendid. They went to a bunch of cities that he wasn't even going to try to pronounce. Though there were far too many people. Really, just what had he thought he could do? Stride right up to a wall of ice and miracle it to keep it from melting without any of the humans noticing?

Instead they sat in tour buses and drove around, taking in sights and taking an absurd amount of photos. It at least kept them out of the chill, for the most part. They bathed at the hot springs, and hiked with a group. Crowley had enjoyed that, even if it was too cold for his tastes. The air tasted better up here.

Sure, Crowley did a lot of subtle magic when he could, but he'd be better off sticking to his other line of work- getting the humans to do this bit for him. Really, he'd just wanted to help, but he was still at a loss for how. At least the tour guide had given them lots of photo opportunities.

And really, Crowley had hammed it up. He'd wanted to be human, well tourism was certainly one of those things. And taking outrageous photos was fun, especially seeing how far Aziraphale would let him go. He thoroughly enjoyed himself, and was doing his absolute best to make sure Aziraphale was having as nice of a trip as he was.

Their vacation really was wonderful, for he could hardly call it a work trip, not when he'd barely done more than magic a few plants on the tours and clean the waters at the springs they went to. He hadn't even been able to do anything about the ice, though they'd certainly gone whale watching and saw glaciers in the distance.

There were just so very many people around them, and really, he needed less eyes on him if he was to do any serious magic. At least Aziraphale didn't chide him too much about his lack of foresight. He was still at the point where he'd need to stick his hands in the water to do any sort of work, and putting his hands in icy water was less than appealing. At least at the hot springs, people mostly kept their eyes to themselves.

“I'll be back.” Crowley said to a seagull. “I don't know how, but I'm going to fix this.” He chewed on his lip. He certainly hoped so.

“Yes my dear. We are.”

Crowley glanced over at the chair, he hadn't realized Aziraphale was paying attention.

“You don't mind?”

“Not at all. This was rather fun.”

“It was, wasn't it?”

“Let's do it again without those hideous sunglasses.”

“Only if you swear no more of those sweaters.”

Aziraphale smirked. “I fancy somewhere with a beach next time.”

“Angel, you're reading my mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. More to come


	9. Limits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley runs into a metaphorical brick wall. Not all things come easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I woke up at 6 in the morning because I had the idea of how this scene would go and I wanted to get it on paper before I forgot. I'm going back to bed for a couple more hours, I'll give it a proper edit once I'm truly awake.  
> edit: so this chapter got pasted TWICE. I've fixed it now. RIP my word count.

Trying out his powers on animals, well that was the next logical step. Crowley could influence people, but he'd always been able to do that. Planting a thought, that was easy. Pouring life into plants came easy to him too. Growing new forests, well that took a bit more energy, but like clearing water or air, it was just draining, but doable.

Surely it couldn't be that different on animals. And Aziraphale was able to mend broken living things, he wanted to be able to do that too. His own miracles before had been more of the selfish kind - the types that let him do stuff mainly for himself. The whole causing good things to happen to other things, well that was different. And he'd start small.

<~>

The woods always felt welcoming to him now. The dirt was usually fertile and rich with nutrients, and if it wasn't, he made it so. New plants would grow, first small ones, then bigger ones. And once there was life, creatures came along. That was what he was counting on today. He have to collect various beetles and bugs for what they had planned.

Aziraphale and him were always running little experiments, trying to figure out his powers. It wasn't like he came with an instruction manual. And it was kind of fun, figuring things out together, pouring over things old texts his kitchen with nice steaming glasses of tea and trying to figure out if things applied to him. Aziraphale's soothing voice was there whenever he got stuck.

<~>

Trying to use his powers on bugs he'd collected, that _had not_ gone as well as he had hoped.

The bugs were each in their own jar, and Crowley had barely let his power touch them. He'd learned that lesson pretty fast, keep his powers light or things got real messy, real fast.. He had started out wondering if he could magic them the way he did with plants, but touching them didn't seem to do much. Then he wondered if he could change them, make their shells look different, but that was a no go too.

Perhaps something simpler, he'd just change their coloring. After the fourteenth jar in a row exploded on him, Crowley burst into frustrated tears. It wasn't working.

“Angel, I'm pretty sure the is the worst thing I've ever done.” He was _Killing_ them. Sure, they were just bugs, but the thought of doing that to sentient creature was _wrenching._ Crowley brushed at his face, smearing blood where the glass had cut into him and stared at the remaining bugs in dismay.

The tabletop was a mess of broken glass and goo: a strange goop he'd manifested when he'd tried to make new bugs. He had guts on his glasses, at least, he thought it was guts. It might have been the goo, whatever that was. He threw his glasses at the table in frustration.

“It's okay dear, we'll stop.” Aziraphale walked over to examine the mess.

“I'm better with the plants." He said dejectedly. "They don't explode. Plants are easy.” Crowley stared at the remnants of container, the shards of glass splattered with smoking innards on the table. “Just a little thought, and Woop, off they go." He gestured. "I'm not even trying to do anything fancy now. Just a bit of color change. But they keep-” He mimed an explosion and threw his hands up.

“Life is rather _her_ area. Plants don't have souls." Aziraphale comforted him. "Perhaps that's why it's not working. Most of the magic you're able to do is on things or plants.”

Crowley pushed away from the table. “What if that had been a person? What if I explode people?” he wiped at his eyes

“Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry I ever suggested that.” Aziraphale rubbed soothing circles onto his back. “But now we know. And we'll stick to the climate change stuff. Leave the creatures out of it.”

He waved his hand to clear away the mess on the table and used a clean wet towel to wipe at Crowley's face. “Didn't you say you had been making a lot of progress, with the people?”

“Well yes, but laws take time." He frowned. "Changes take time. Earth hasn't got much time.”

“And you're stressing yourself out worse thinking like that." Aziraphale said. "Take a deep breath. You're okay.”

“Of course I'm okay.” He took the towel and wiped at his glasses, but that only made the mess worse. He frowned. Well there were plenty more pairs around, though Aziraphale did like it when he wandered around sans glasses. Crowley discarded the pair back on the table and turned back to Aziraphale.

“I can persuade people; influence them. Seeding a thought is easy. But that's it.” He sighed morosely. “No broken bones or other changes.”

“See, this was helpful. You're learning the limits of your powers.”

“But how am I supposed to help the humans if I go around turning everything into goo?” he pushed away from the table and stood.

“Ideas have their own kind of power.”

Crowley rolled his eyes as he walked. “Yes, Be nice to people. I remembered how that ended up. There was a cross and everything. I don't fancy that.”

“Well, the humans don't have to know it's you." Aziraphale trailed him into the sitting room. "You like to operate from the background. Just keep dropping plans and ideas into the right minds.”

“And how do I know it's the right mind?" He threw himself onto the sofa. Aziraphale sat primly on the end of the sofa. "I mean, I've been sticking to the rich and the powerful, simply because I think they're the fastest way to make things happen. But they're quite stubborn. I'm not sure how much my words are sticking"

Crowley frowned. "I mean, sure, I can compel someone, but if I'm not there making sure they do it, it's just a thought. And doing that is too much like taking away free will. I don't like that." he said firmly. "People should be able to make their own choices. I'm just trying to keep them from destroying themselves.”

“I know you are. And they are making their own choices. Just with some direction. Influence, not compel then. Like you said, just plant the idea. And look at the changes that are happening. They're good, right?

“I suppose." He sighed. "The planet seems healthier, at least it doesn't feel quite so weird.”

“That's good then. See, it's working.”

“But once I'm done with fixing this, well then I've got to focus on the humans themselves." He drew his lips thin. "I mean, there's so much going on. Pain and suffering. What am I supposed to act on?" He asked Aziraphale. "What's too far? What's not enough? That thought keeps me up at night."

“We'll talk through it as it happens, Dear.”

“The humans are always at war. I mean before, the things they did made me look like I was working.” He rolled his shoulder.

“But they also do clever things too.” Aziraphale said

“Yes, they do.” Crowley looked over at Aziraphale. “I mean, look at what they've done with art. And they're in space now.”

“I think once you've put out the fires, so to say, you should step back." Aziraphale ran his fingers through his hair. "You'll run yourself ragged trying to right every wrong. You can influence people for good, but I know you. You've always been the sort to let people make their own choices.”

“Well they made their bed, and now I'm trying to fix it before they lay in it. But the point is not to let it get this bad again.”

“Like I said, if something comes up, we'll talk it through. You're not alone in this. You might be the only agent for humanity right now, but I'm working with you. Heaven's got another agent on the planet, I suspect that's why we've not had any run ins with Hell, though your defenses probably have a lot to do with that too.”

"Thanks Zira."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, I wrote this at 6 am. And we're getting closer to the end. I think a couple more chapters, maybe 3 or 4. I do have some ideas still floating around, though I wrote about 5,000 words for the end bit, and I'm really excited about that. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I did quite a bit of cleanup on the earlier chapters, so it should be smoother and a nicer read.


	10. Trying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've not been able to do much, but I'm on the way out the door, and I have no chill. So have some scenes that I've pieced together. And really, I promise when I get home in a couple hours, I'll edit this chapter and the last one and reply. You guys are seriously the best.

After that talk, Crowley seemed to relax a bit. Hell hadn't caused as many problems for him as he was worried about. Maybe they would simply leave them both alone. Sure, the no-longer-demon still spent lots of time emailing and calling people, and more time popping off to arrange convenient meetings with important people, but he seemed less stressed, more free.

On rainy days they went to museums, different ones each time. At first it was just art museums, rather stuffy ones at that. But Crowley had really enjoyed the interactive museums, and Aziraphale hadn't seemed to care too much at the change. And London did have so many museums to play around in.

There were science museums and galleries to visit - though, the modern art exhibits usually got quite a bit of dry commentary from them both. Still it was fun to hear when one of the art pieces reminded Crowley or Aziraphale of a different lifetime, one spent apart. Each little anecdote was a window into a different past. And there were lunches and dinners that seemed to be a far more regular occurrence than before. Crowley must have taken them to every restaurant in London.

On sunny days, they visited gardens, ponds, zoos, lakes, even the country side. There were more picnics, long walks, and even once a carriage ride through the park. Crowley took him out rowing on pond where there were long pointless conversations while they fed the ducks, smiles and jokes. It was perfect really. Aziraphale didn't think he'd ever been so happy.

<~>

Crowley knew that plants were easy, but if he really tried, he could break down things, make the air easier to breathe, make waters less polluted just by looking at them, though it was still easier to dip his fingers in and feel the wrongness changing. The bigger things, they still took more energy, but Aziraphale always smiled so proudly whenever he managed to do something.

Crowley supposed he'd have to give it a real try in one of those big cities in China, that's where things seemed to be the worst. Though he'd probably need to find a reasonable explanation for why the air quality was suddenly changing.

That sort of thing called for a road trip. Was Aziraphale down for a road trip? Or several really. There were spots all over the place that needed fixed. Crowley could feel the sickness as it grew. Maybe just a business trip for himself then if Aziraphale didn't want to come?

He was turning into a regular jet setter, flying around and lurking in the right places to casually 'run into' powerful people, and plant the idea that they really really wanted to make some very large improvements. Really he just needed some laws and explanations to help cover up the changes he was making. And when he was feeling nice, he even let some people take credit for the things he'd miracled up.

<~>

“What's this?” Crowley said one night when he got home and saw a package waiting for him on the coffee table. It had been tied up in fancy paper and ribbons, so he couldn't tell what it was. He picked at the box. It was maybe the size of a hatbox, sitting on the dining table with a large bow on the top.

“Well, you keep getting me presents, I thought I'd return the favor.” Aziraphale said shyly.

Crowley plucked at the ribboned box and tore the paper with glee. He loved opening gifts, though he so seldom got to do it. “These are heels.” He said when he pried open the lid on the box.

“Yes. Um, I saw them and thought you'd quite enjoy them.”

They were a snappy black pair, a sort of snakeskin pattern with blood red soles, and a silver snake wrapping around each heel and curling around the ankle, it's head curling around and resting on the back, it's red eyes sparkling.

“Oh they're _fantastic.”_ He picked one up to examine it closer. “And my size.” The little rubies as the snake's eyes were a fabulous touch. _“Oh,_ Angel.” He kicked off his shoes and slid on the heels, feeling a rush. Aziraphale had got him a present. Aziraphale had gotten him a _REALLY_ nice present. He almost cried, his breath coming just a little too fast.

“I'm glad you like them. They do suit you." Aziraphale looked pleased with himself "I saw red and black and snakes, and just had to get them.”

Crowley tried to tone down his emotions, but he wasn't sure he was successful. “I do like 'em. A lot. Thanks.”

“Just wear them next time we go out to dinner. You always walk like you're on your way to conquer the world when you wear heels.”

“They're heels.”

“Yes and, you wear them so well.”

“Of course I do.” Crowley was going to have so much fun planning an outfit to go with these beauties, especially now that his walk in closet had so many new clothes to play with.

<~>

Really, he'd never wanted power, never wanted responsibility. Sure, he'd played in the stars, and created things, and then he'd fell and been meandering along since then. All of this, well it was more than he wanted. But sitting around doing nothing drained him even more than going out and trying to fix things, so either way he had to do something.

Trips to the forest were quite his favorite, and the older, the better. He loved spending days like this. He speaking life into old trees and coaxing new life forth. The forest creatures would nuzzle up to him when he offered them fruits. So he always made sure to grow plenty for them to eat. Aziraphale would think him soft if he ever saw this. It was too close to Eden for his own tastes, and he had to keep reminding himself that Eden didn't matter. Not anymore.

This was his planet now. His garden. _He_ might not have been able to live up to God's standards, but he was kinder than her. Aziraphale would say he was being blasphemous for having such thoughts; but this was his world now. He would protect it, no matter how many times he had to step in. Besides, why should the animals pay just because people had messed up? It wasn't fair.

The forest needed rain, and he called for it. It did feel splendid on his wings when it came - though it did terrible things to his hair. He was mindful of what Gabriel said though about the Earth Observation Files. He didn't want a record of such behavior. Really though, he would have to look into obscuring his presence on that.

No matter how much he wanted to twit around in the rain and feel the rivets trickle over the moss, he hardly wanted anyone else to see that. It was private. He keep that strictly in his shower. He didn't think the observation files went that far. Out here he would just be content to listen to the sounds of rainwater bouncing off mushrooms, and fresh life blooming into existance. Rain always felt fresh, cleansing and new.

All the fond looks Aziraphale gave him over each dinner made him feel like he was doing something right for _once._ Though he kept wondering if there was some magic phrase he was missing that would let his Angel know he was trying to move this along.

He'd been flirting for thousands of years, and he fallen hard in love, and he was reasonably sure that Aziraphale wanted _something_ from him. He certainly wanted Aziraphale.

It was splendid coming home and knowing the angel would be there waiting for him at night - but he wanted to be able to wake from a nightmare and crawl into Aziraphale's arms, to be wrapped up and safe, and to be utterly his angel's, and just what would it take to make that happen?

He didn't know, but he needed it. He needed to be whole, and loved and complete for once. He'd done everything he knew how to, done so much more, but it wasn't enough. There was still a gap between them that he didn't know how to bridge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The heel scene was entirely for myself. I've just been dying to give Crowley those heels.


	11. On the brink of change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I have had QUITE the time. If you checked on my tumblr, I had my laptop die, my backups corrupt, and my external hard dive was locked up. Everything's finally recovered, so I got this out as quick as I could, thanks for the patience. I had to reread through everything to make sure of the tone, so I did some minor edits, mostly just fixing verb tenses, though if anyone spots something wonky, I'll fix it! :) Onwards we go!

“EOF's I want as much information on them as possible.” Crowley said over their desert one day. They were at home eating regular food he'd sprung from the freezer, nothing special. “As Humanity's Agent, Surely I have access to them. Earth Observation Files. Well, Earth is kind of my planet now. I shouldn't have to worry about people peeking in at all.”

“Well, in this case, you might have more power than me. I'm just a principality.” Aziraphale noted.

“Yes, but you do know more important people.” He paused. “Gabriel. He's alright to ask.”

“Gabriel?" Aziraphale's brow crinkled. "Archangel Gabriel?”

“Well, don't go asking the others.”

“How do you even know him?” Aziraphale stared at him in suspicion.

“I run into people. He's at least kind of okay with me." Crowley shrugged it off. "I mean, if anything, I want to figure out how to access them. It'd make my job a whole lot easier.”

“Right.”

“Oh, you don't have to do much, just tell Gabe I want a chat. Have him ring me.”

“GABE?” Aziraphale stared at him wide eyed.

“Don't hyperventilate. Come on, it's me.” He waved at himself.

“Stop nicknaming Archangels!” Aziraphale managed.

“Tell Gabriel I want to talk.” He crossed his arms. “Better?” He frowned. “Your gelato is melting.”

“I'm not really bothered by desert right now.” Aziraphale said huffily.

“Well, you should be. Instead of whingeing at me.”

“I'm not whingeing at you, dear. I just think you should have the proper respect.”

“Proper respect.” He scoffed. “S'me you're talking to. Respect is earned, sweetheart.” His voice dripped with honey. “Just get word to him. For me?”

Aziraphale sighed and picked up his spoon. “I'll make _inquiries.”_

“Thank you.”

<~>

And inquiries Aziraphale _made._

Really, his dearest had been off for ages, but now they seemed to be past the worst, and he had more time to worry. Crowley asking for Gabriel, well that was something to worry about. And using that tone of voice? Something about that conversation set him on edge. Crowley had been manipulative. Crowley wasn't manipulative. At least not to him. It was worrying.

<~>

Crowley paused, pen hovering over the page as he felt the change in the room behind behind him. It felt decidedly heavenly, more so than Aziraphale. Anyways, Aziraphale was upstairs right now, giving his reports, and he wouldn't have bothered slipping in like this.

Crowley should have been alone in the bookshop for a couple of hours. He liked doing his work here when he needed to get out of his office. The drive to the bookshop usually helped him clear his head from whatever was currently bothering him. He had even brought a bunch of letters from different occult shops to work his way through to pass the time. So of course he'd been interrupted.

“The Observation Files?" He said briskly. "You've renamed them?”

And of course it would be _him;_ he wouldn't have used the phone. That would have been to easy.

“Acronym, really. It's more efficient." He set his pen down and turned to look at Gabriel. "I should have access to them, whatever I choose to call them.” Crowley crossed his arms, “I mean, Hell has access. Humanity should too.”

“You have no idea the amount of work that went into covering up for you two. Asking questions is only going to make someone look at things harder." He grimaced. "And Aziraphale? He's not subtle.”

“All I told him was that I wanted to talk to you.”

 _“No._ Whatever you said got him _suspicious._ Now he's got his own questions."

“That's hardly my fault.” He adjusted his glasses. “You told me to keep your name out of things as much as I could. I did. Aziraphale has been curious since the changes, but now I've got some questions that I want answers to. And I figured it was better to go asking you than to go to one of the others.”

“I suppose." He stuck his hands in his suit pocket. "Not going to give you access.”

“Oh come on. I've been figuring out most of this on my own. Well, sort of... Aziraphale has been helping." He hitched a shoulder. "But throw me a bone here?”

Gabriel was not moved.

“Well how's it work then?” He wheedled. “Come on, tell me that much." He could be very annoying if the situation called for it, which Gabriel would find out if he kept stonewalling him. "It'll make your job easier. Less covering up to do.”

“It's public observation. Like binoculars with sound." He gave in. "That's why I'm here. It's not public.”

“Oh, video." Crowley made a face. "Talk about a nanny-cam” He waved his hand. He could work around that. Humanity, he'd been watched over children a few times now. “You could have just called. No need to come in person.”

"I know we're at a bit of a truce, but you were a demon for a very long time." Gabriel looked at him. “I don't particularly want you having my number.”

“That feeling is mutual, though I'm pretty sure I gave Aziraphale a heart attack when he called you Gabe.”

Gabriel stared at him in distaste. “Why can't you just call things what they are named?”

“Nicknames are a human thing, come on, get with the times!”

“I'm an angel.” Gabriel reminded him snootily.

“You're here on Earth, You're Gabe.” He said flippantly. 

“Ignoring that. Whatever you're doing, It's working." He cleared his throat. "Aziraphale has been almost decent to work with." he frowned. "What do the humans call it? your little doomsday clock, er, it's got a bit more time added to it.”

“Well then, fantastic.”

“Stop asking questions about the files.” Gabriel said firmly.

“Yes, mother.” Crowley rolled his eyes.

“I don't know what that means," Gabriel narrowed his eyes. "But I don't think I like the way you said it.”

“Well, It'd be a strange world indeed if we suddenly got along.” Crowley shrugged.

“I can't believe I'm saying this," Gabriel stepped closer. "but please _teach_ Aziraphale to be sneaky. He's really bad at it.” He grimaced.

“You advocating that I teach Aziraphale to lie?" He stared in disbelief. "This is a very strange world indeed."

“Lying," Gabriel said. "Lying is for down below. Stealth however is a human trait.”

Crowley pulled down his shades. “Rules lawyering again?”

A series of looks passed between the two.

“At what point am I allowed to tell him what happened?" Crowley sighed.

“Do you really want to admit to _everything?”_ Gabriel asked.

“Well, not everything." He conceded. "But it feels rather off to talk about dishonesty when I've been keeping a pretty big secret of my own."

"Oh _mother,_ a demon with a moral compass."

"I'm not a demon anymore - thanks for that." He sighed. "I mean, I came up with an explanation for him, but it clearly wasn't good enough.”

Gabriel frowned. “Remind me again how you got so much stuff done for Hell?”

“About that...” He shrugged. He'd been stumbling his way around and claiming mishaps for far longer than he was willing to admit. “Might have been some embellishments.”

“Embellishments.”

Crowley grimaced and shrugged. “I mean, I was a demon, and demons tell falsehoods I just made a career out of it.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Gabriel said flatly.

“Well I'm doing alright now, you said so yourself." Crowley fiddled with the back of the chair. "And She knew the truth, I mean, She knows everything. It was her who actually gave me this, you just offered an opportunity.”

“The two of you really do deserve each other." He rolled his eyes. "A pair of freaking morons.”

And he was gone again, just as suddenly as he appeared. 

Crowley threw his hands up. “Well, that's one way to end a conversation.” Crowley looked at the space the angel had once occupied. He wasn't sure where that conversation was heading anyways. At least he'd gotten the information he wanted. Kind of.

<~>

He hadn't be ready to deal with Aziraphale and his questions then, so he'd done his own research next. If Gabriel wasn't willing to give him answers he sought, then he'd find them himself. Or at least do something.

He read through more spidery handwritten books and pieced through letters until he was finally able to cobble together some kind of charm that would obscure his presence- hopefully from any prying eyes, and from the EOF's as well. Spells still weren't really his forte, but this kind of power was rather human, and he was sure that someone else could have done a better job.

The way this one worked was partly by hiding his aura, partly by something that would make him less conspicuous to those nearby, and just a general fuck all to any security systems trained on him. If it worked, it'd be like a bubble around him. Granted, someone who knew what absences they were looking for could still pin him down, but it was a lot more work.

Well, if the charm did what it was supposed to. He supposed he'd have to wear it to find out. The final step was a drop of his blood, which he squeezed from a cut on his thumb and pressed it into the little silver disk. The whole room felt a little odd as the spell activated. Magic did that. He threaded the charm onto a chain and put it around his neck. He wasn't one to wear much jewelry, but he was willing to give it a shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suppose in one of the next chapters there will be some changes coming!


	12. Status

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley's not sure how much longer he's got tell Hell makes their move, but he's going to try to protect Aziraphale with all his power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient with my computer issues. Have another chapter :)

Aziraphale felt his magic the second he walked in the door. He put his key back in his breast pocket and turned to Crowley. “What have you done now?”

Crowley slid over to him. “Hello to you too.”

“I feel magic.” He raised his eyebrow. "A lot of power."

Crowley pulled the charm out from under his shirt and held up the chain in the light. “I'm trying something out.Er, I don't like the idea of Heaven or Hell being able to find me at their whim." He gave Aziraphale a strained smile. "And if it works, then I can make you one too.”

“We usually do this stuff together.” Aziraphale said as he looked over the charm. It didn't look like, just a silver coin with a symbol etched into it, and on the back, a bloody thumbprint. It was deceptively powerful though. He could feel the magic buzzing around his skin.

“I was trying to be proactive.” He shrugged.

Aziraphale eyed him. “If you want space, that's all you have to say.”

“Angel, no!" Crowley assured. "I don't want space. Why would you jump to that? I just don't want you think I expect you to fix every problem I have.”

“I like working on things with you!” Aziraphale let the chain go and looked at Crowley.

“If this one doesn't work out, then we'll try something else together.” Crowley promised.

“You don't have to include me just to appease me.” Aziraphale said moodily.

“What's happening?" Crowley's brows crinkled in confusion. "Are we fighting right now?”

“Maybe.” Aziraphale crossed his arms. “You've been hiding something from me, and now you're off doing your own things." He pointed to the charm. "If you want me in your life, then let me be a part of your life!" He pleaded. "I want to know the truth, Stop hiding things from me.”

“I haven't been hiding things!”

“Then tell me what happened that night!” Aziraphale raised his eyebrow

“I can't!” Crowley exclaimed wide eyed, baring his teeth.

“Exactly.” Aziraphale crossed his arms and huffed.

Crowley twisted his hair, distressed. “Don't be mad.”

“I'm not mad," Aziraphale said rather primly. "I'm cross.”

“I know you are." Crowley said. "And I heard you were upstairs trying to get answers and being very clumsy about it.”

“Oh, did you? From who?" Aziraphale's voice raised. " _Gabriel_? Is _he_ your source?”

“You're yelling again.” Crowley paced around the room. “I knew I couldn't do this. I always disappoint people." He sunk in on himself "You'll yell and get upset and then leave me.”

“Where is all this coming from?" Aziraphale said with concern. "I'm frustrated Dear, but I'm not going to abandon you.” Aziraphale crossed the room and took Crowley’s hands into his own and squeezed them firmly. “I want you to tell me the whole truth, Dear. But I know you're not ready to give me answers.”

“I want to tell you things Aziraphale. I do." He assured. "I just don't know how to.”

“When you're ready. I'll be here for you.” Aziraphale squeezed Crowley's hands.

“Will you?” Crowley looked worried.

“For certain, Crowley." He brushed a lock of hair out of Crowley's face. "Nothing you say will push me away.”

Crowley closed his eyes. “Aziraphale. I'm mucking this all up. I don't want you to be upset. I don't want to be hiding anything. I don't like not telling you everything. I'm only trying to protect you.”

“I can handle myself.” Aziraphale reminded him

“You don't know what Hell can be like when they're angry. Not really.”

“And I'm sorry that you do.” Aziraphale looked into his eyes.

“Please Aziraphale, don't ask about that night.” He gripped onto Aziraphale's hands. “Please.”

“Okay.” He murmured. “If you ever want to talk about it, I'm listening. But I'll drop it," he closed his eyes. "Because you asked."

Crowley exhaled. “One day. I promise I'll tell you. Once I'm sure you're safe.”

<~>

It took several variations, but he finally managed to do it, or at least, he found one that he thought worked well. Aziraphale was handy at finding old texts, it really was easier with him. Spells were a human thing to do, but he was managing it. Playing with the occult felt right to him. It shouldn't have been as much of a surprise as it was. He'd been doing magicking things for ages, he'd just assumed it was miracles.

Maybe that was why he was able to do so much of the magic stuff from the books. Aziraphale had clearly put the pieces together before him, why else would he have brought out all those magic books to test things out on him. And Aziraphale had thrown the word “Earth Magic around” but he'd never taken it seriously. He supposed magic was just another word for miracles. It was more of a subset, specialized miracles.

It just felt right, even the word magic felt right. He was a Magical Entity, and the Earth was his realm. Setting up the protections had been one thing, trying to erase them off the map was another. He didn't know how Heaven and Hell would react, having to rely on more traditional manners, would they see this as a taunt, as him flaunting his powers? Really all he wanted was to protect the things he cared about, and to be left alone. If this worked, maybe he'd get his wish.

<~>

He was cautious about going out, always keeping a careful watch of his surroundings and a feel for any occult beings. He was even more paranoid about Aziraphale going out alone when he wasn't there to watch.

“I don't like it.” He said one night as they were drinking on the couch, the telly playing BBC in the background.

“A surprise, _really.”_ Aziraphale said dryly as he looked into his wine glass. “What don't you like now?”

“Hell has not raised any kind of fuss or made problems. This isn't like them.” He curled into the couch, holding his own glass.

Aziraphale leaned back so he could look at Crowley better. “Well, you have made it quite difficult to get to you.”

“But they haven't even tried!" Crowley shifted so he could drink without spilling. "And there have been lots of opportunities. So many. It'd be really easy to cause, say a plane crash.”

“You're unhappy they're leaving you alone?” Aziraphale looked at him, befuddled.

“It just makes me nervous. You don't know them, the way they operate.” He fiddled with his sunglasses. “I feel like I'm always looking over my shoulder waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“You're prepared as you can be." Aziraphale took a sip of his drink. "Perhaps they're respecting your new status.”

“I doubt it." Crowley muttered. "No one down there has ever liked me much." He sighed. "It wasn't a hard choice to make, giving up my place in Hell for the chance to protect you.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale sighed. “ _Us._ Why do you care so little for yourself?”

“Wot?” Crowley looked at him, not sure what to say.

“Protect us. Dear Boy, you're important too.”

“Right." he cleared his throat. "You're stroppy today.”

“Oh, don't do that." Aziraphale put down his glass. "You always deflect when the conversation turns to you.”

“Aziraphale.”

“It's been 6,000 years, and this whole time you've never had a sense of self preservation. You lived like you didn't care if you _did_ live. I'd be so disappointed if you were to suddenly disappear from my life.” Aziraphale reached out to touch Crowley.

“This charm though, That's what it's supposed to do." He explained. "I disappear off the map, makes it harder for them to find me, and this place is like a fortress. No one's getting in.”

“You asked me for holy water once.” Aziraphale murmured. 

“You gave it to me. Though I'm not sure how it'd react to my new status.” He took a sip from his wine glass. “Look, I'm not trying to die. Anything else you want to say?”

“I care about you, a lot." Aziraphale said softly. "Please just be careful.”

“I'm trying to be.”

<~>

“Shit.” Crowley said when he turned around in his car and Gabriel was just there. Crowley's heart beat fast, which was odd, since he only had a beating heart when he focused on it.

“I think it's working.” He looked at Crowley. “I had quite the time clearing up your mess, but Aziraphale seems to have mellowed out some, so your talking to must have worked.” He looked away. “And whatever you're doing to keep off the EOF, seems to be working too.”

“Right. Glad for that.” He willed himself to calm down.

“I wanted to let you know, down-there has been raising a fuss about you, I gather they really don't like the idea of the humans being a force to be reckoned with. Especially now that they can't see what you're doing." He grimaced. "I'd watch out if I were you. Hell might not be the only one that wants eyes on you.”

“Well thanks for the heads up, I suppose.” He scrunched up his nose. “You really think this is working?”

“Well why wouldn't it? I mean you seem to actually be making an effort to take your job seriously.”

“I meant Aziraphale.”

“Oh God Almighty, spare me.” Gabriel looked out the windshield. 

“It's not I can talk to anyone else about this." Crowley huffed. "I specifically haven't mentioned anything at all to Aziraphale about you, because quite frankly, that's a conversation I don't even know where to start." He frowned. "Your side, do they have any idea of what all happened back then?”

“Not really. I'd like to keep my name out of it as much as I can." He sighed. "Look, I did my part.”

“And I'm trying to do mine!" Crowley blurted. "There's _Wooing,_ lots of wooing.” He tapped on the steering wheel. “In between trying to fix all this mess, and figure out just what to do with all the greenery that's decided to move in." He gestured. "And I did what you said, I've been courting him and doing everything by the books, But we're just kind of stuck.”

Gabriel huffed. “Maybe you're just not trying hard enough.”

“Oh sure, I'd like to see you do better." He said petulantly. "You got any other bright ideas? Cause I'm open to them.”

“Well you've been here on Earth for quite a while, but maybe he's still more of the celestial type. Try that.”

“Oh, geez, it's been ages since I've even thought of that stuff. Really going to have to rack my memories.”

“Well, do that." He paused. "And deal with _Them.”_

“I'm pretty sure I don't take orders from you.” Crowley bristled.

“Habit, I suppose. But probably a good idea.”

Crowley sneered. “Yes. I suppose it is.”

Gabriel was gone just as quick as he appeared.

<~>

“Your turn.” Crowley held out a charm to Aziraphale. Dried angel blood was on one side in a thumbprint. "It's ready."

“How do you know this thing works?”

“I have my sources.”

 _“Right."_ Aziraphale frowned. _"Sources."_

“You put that on, you're protected from being seen.” He bit his lip. “But it also allies yourself with me.”

“I've always been on our side.” He took the offered chain and slipped it around his neck, inspecting the charm. “And that finger print, it doesn't wear off?”

“I wore mine in the rain the other day, it still looks like new. Magic and all that.” Crowley fiddled with his necklace. He quite liked that they were matching now.

“I heard Hell isn't happy with me, but when are they? I don't like the idea of them taking it out on you, but this thing will make it a lot harder to find you, though I hope it doesn't cause problems with your work.”

“If it does, dear, I'll deal with it.”

<~>

And the days went by. Each day that passed with no sign of Hell made Crowley more nervous, though Aziraphale seemed more at ease at the passage of time.

Crowley knew that it was likely that downstairs was regrouping and biding their time, but he also couldn't keep their life on pause forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone want to write the hell scene for me? /jokes/ it's the only one I've got left to write, and I hate confrontation. Perhaps I can get away with putting it off for a couple more chapters.


	13. All the time in the world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversations are finally had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is twice as long as the last few I've posted, but it really all wanted to be one chapter. And it's the last bit I had pre-written.

“So that it. I think.” Crowley held up the charm when he came home one evening. “S'been a week. I suppose it's okay for you to go back to the bookshop.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale looked up in surprise.

“I mean, Hell won't be after you there, and this thing seems to be working." Crowley held up his charm. "And they're certainly not getting in here.”

“Right.” Aziraphale almost sounded disappointed. “I suppose you want me to get out of your hair then.” of course Crowley would want his life, and space back.

“Well...” He rather didn't. But he didn't say that, hoping Aziraphale would pick up on the unspoken words.

“You'll call me, then? Keep me updated?” Aziraphale looked at him wide eyed

“I suppose I can do that, angel.” He adjusted his glasses.

“And dinner will go back to Mondays evenings, I guess?”

“Sounds like a plan.” No it didn't. How did he get off this ride?

“Well, if you're sure then.” Aziraphale's eyes darted over him.

“If I see any signs of you know who, I'll give you a heads up. I'll be fine, Angel.”

“If you say so.” Aziraphale gave him a tight lipped grin. “I suppose I'll be off then. Good night. Crowley." He slipped out the door.

Crowley sank to his couch as the lock turned over. What had he done?

<~>

There was a card sitting on the dashboard of the Bentley, it hadn't been there a moment ago. Crowley blinked down at it. It was a post card, perfectly crisp and unbent. The front had some airbrushed scenic picture and the only thing that was written on it was a place and a time. It was blank otherwise.

He wondered for a moment, if he should phone Aziraphale. He extended his senses, it was just him and Aziraphale in this city. Just one demon and one angel far off, doing their own things. Still, he would feel better if he could see Aziraphale. And this could be dealt with in person. It was a far shot, but maybe Aziraphale would recognize the writing.

He adjusted his course, driving to the bookshop, fiddling with the card while he tried to figure out what to do. He hadn't seen Aziraphale since he'd left. And each day felt longer than the one before.

Aziraphale was there at the bookshop, looking so fond at his books and running his hand along their spines, that Crowley suddenly paused outside the window. That look in Aziraphale's eyes- He had given up so much for Crowley; had been trapped inside his loft for ages, taken on the burdens that were Crowley's to bear. He was safe here in the bookshop.

It wasn't fair to drag him into this mess. The post card was for Crowley. If it was Hell, they weren't getting to Aziraphale. He'd made sure of that months ago. No, he would leave the angel here with his books, and see who showed up tonight.

<~>

Crowley didn't go. He was supposed to show at eight. He'd been at the pub since three drinking and trying to figure out how things went so wrong. It had been easy for him to go unnoticed, to place the thought to ignore him in everyone's mind. And another small effort to keep the bartender placing a full glass in front of him, though the man didn't know why he felt the need to do so.

Aziraphale had left, Hell might very well be planning to discorporate him tonight and everything was so empty, his loft was filled with the ghosts of conversations over cocoa, popcorn and movies, and laughing while they got spectacularly drunk. Something he was trying to do now.

“There you are. I have been looking for you. It's been four hours. I've been all over London trying to track you down.” A voice called out to him.

“Knew I should have left town.” He turned towards Gabriel and then back to his drink.

“What you should do is get rid of that car. It's the only reason I found you. Sticks out.”

“Get rid of the Bentley? No way.” Crowley slid his glasses down his nose to look at him.

“I found you, and it wasn't hard. I could throttle you, but I won't. You're in a pitiful enough state.”

“Says you.” He scoffed and pushed his glasses back up. “Maybe I wanted someone to find the Bentley, did you ever think about that?”

“Oh, and what were you going to do in this state?”

Crowley muttered. “Well, I might have drank more than I planned on.”

“Where's Aziraphale, I don't sense him standing guard. What you tell him to let you go out alone?”

“I dunno. He's probably at the bookshop." He shrugged "Happy to get away for a while. It's not like we're in each other's pockets. I'm not a bloody dog, don't need a minder.” 

He picked up his pint glass and grimaced. Beer had never been a favorite of his. That had been why he'd ordered it. He'd planned to sit here and nurse his pint while he waited for someone to track him down. But his thoughts kept circling back to Aziraphale, and the pints kept coming.

“I was trying to have a conversation with the Human representative. Clearly that's not happening now.”

“Oh, thank you for that. Bloody subterfuge. I've spent the whole day trying to figure out if Hell was setting me up." He huffed. "I could have been drinking red instead of this bloody piss. Just phone me like a regular person.”

“We've talked about that.”

“Not like I particularly want you on dial. Human Representative." he gestured. "Bah, I liked being a nobody.” He picked at the bar counter. “Didn't matter what I did then. No one was looking close, really. And there were oysters and plays and stuff.”

He sighed. “But now. Well, things have changed, and not the way they were supposed to.” Crowley thunked his head on the bar top. “I give up.”

Gabriel eyed him with distaste and sat down on the stool next to him.

“No. You don't. This isn't a job you just give up.”

“Fixing their mistakes is one thing. Aziraphale is another. I can't do this.” He sighed morosely.

“If you give up then I have to put up with him.” Gabriel grabbed the glass and took a sniff. "What even is this? It smells terrible."

"It is. Lighter fluid is what it is. Gets the job done though."

"How clean is that table top? And your face is all on it?." Gabriel shuttered and set the glass back down. "Did you crack the table top with your thick skull?"

"I could fix it if I did.Not that you're actually concerned. You don't understand.” He pulled his head off the bar - the undented bar top, thank you-, and adjusted his glasses.

“I haven't got any other ideas. I've tried _everything._ Shouldn't this have all fallen into place? The second he had the chance to get away from me, he did." Crowley grimaced, "I mean, if it's not the demon thing he had trouble with, maybe it's just _me.”_

“Maybe it's Aziraphale.” Gabriel huffed.

“No.” Crowley frowned. “If somethings wrong, it's me." His eyes were hidden behind his shades, and Gabriel had nowhere near enough experience to read his expressions. "I'm always wrong.”

“You're drunk.”

“That's the point.” He flopped his arms onto the bar. “If I was sober I'd have to remember just how spectacularly I've been failing at this.” He paused. “Oh wait, no, there it is. Disappointment.”

“I'm an archangel. Maybe I've more got ideas.”

Crowley scoffed. “Gabe, darling, That's a _terrible_ idea. I've been doing everything what you suggested and it's not working. I'd be better off doing the opposite of whatever you say.”

He wagged a finger to admonish the angel. “I don't know what Heaven's up to these days, but I get the idea it's still a “rule with a tight fist and fear. Not very big on feelings.”

Crowley looked at his drink. “At least in Hell people were upfront about their dislike.” A look of panic passed over his face. “Oh no. you don't think he's just being _polite_ do you? What if he can't stand me?”

 _“_ _Er._ I'm sure that's not the case. I know Aziraphale when he's being forcefully pleasant. He likes you.”

“You think so?” Crowley smiled.

“I can't do this. If you're not going to be sober, I can't help you.”

“No!” He grabbed Gabriel's arm and tried to pull himself together. “I'm as sober as I'm willing to be for this.”

“6,000 years, what's something you tried?” Gabriel said extracting himself from Crowley's grip.

“What haven't I tried?” He leaned back in his seat. “That's probably be easier to go on.”

“Fine. What?”

“I. Don't. KNOW.” He slapped the bar. “I've tried everything. 'cept sex. And that's not on the table. I mean, I've been the walking embodiment of 'lust' for ages. I know, cause the humans are always saying it.” He sighed again.

“I honestly thought it was the demon thing stopping him.”hought

“See, it's me.” Crowley reached for his pint.

“Okay. You've had enough.” He grabbed Crowley's shoulder, and they were outside his flat, the drink still at the bar. “Where's your key?”

“Bad idea. You don't want to go in there. It'd be more than unpleasant.” He scratched his nose. “Didn't want anyone feeling welcome here.” He paused “Except Aziraphale. Zira can go wherever- Stop doing that!” He yelled when Gabriel rolled his eyes and then they were outside the bookshop.

“If I can't get you home, then this is the next option. The two of you can finally talk.” Gabriel banged on the door.

“I talk to Aziraphale all the time." Crowley told him. "He's a great talker.”

“Oh Good _Lord.”_ Gabriel beat louder on the door. Upstairs a light finally came on.

“Just a moment!” A voice called when Gabriel beat on the door again.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley wondered in confusion “Gabe?” He was suddenly alone and then the door opened.

“Honestly Crowley, since when have locks stopped you?” Aziraphale frowned at the disturbance.

He turned to stare at Aziraphale. “I, er.”

“I'm sure you had a point. It's past midnight! I have neighbors you know. People are sleeping. You know this is my favorite time to read, so if it's important spit it out.”

“Spit what out?”

Aziraphale arched an eyebrow. “Inside.”

He blinked. “I thought you wanted me to spit something out.”

“I'm not trying to feed you something. I'm telling you to get inside.” He pulled Crowley in the door into his back room, where at least there were comfy chairs to sit in.

“My dear, not that I don't like spending time with you, but why are you here?” He asked once they were both seated.

“Do you?” Crowley asked.

“Do I what?”

“Like spending time with me?” He looked at Aziraphale desperately.

“Of course I like spending time with you.” Aziraphale looked affronted.

“We're friends." Crowley said as he messed with the a decorative cushion on the chair.

“Indeed.” He affirmed.

“I don't want to be friends.” He studied the pillow it was needlepoint. Fiddly work.

Aziraphale looked like someone had slapped him “You don't?”

Crowley frowned. “I do. But I don't.”

“I don't understand.”

“You're clever. It's me. Isn't it? I knew it.” He hugged the pillow to his chest “I said if somethings wrong it's _me_ I mean, I thought it was the demon thing but _nO._ that's not a problem anymore. Surely you know how I feel, and We went to the Ritz. We've picnicked! We've been on bloody _vacation_! I don't know how to move any slower!”

 _“Oh.”_ Aziraphale breathed, his eyes widening.

Crowley burst into tears, unable to take Aziraphale's silence anymore. The weight of his words and the alcohol bearing down on him.

“Dear, _no!_ There's nothing wrong with you.” Aziraphale shot forward, pulling Crowley into his arms and wiping away tears with his thumb. The pillow fell to the floor, rather ignored.

“Blast these dreadful shades.” He pulled Crowley's glasses off as they sank to their knees. “Oh dear. I've messed this up spectacularly.” Aziraphale said as he made soothing noises and rubbed circles on Crowley's back, where his wings would have sprouted from.

“Wait,” Crowley hiccuped. “There was something to mess up?” He looked up at Aziraphale, his golden eyes larger than normal. “Not just me being, me?”

Aziraphale took a deep breath. “Look, there is something, and I'm afraid I've been rather cruel to pretend it didn't exist. My Dear Boy, how could you ever think something was wrong with you? You're perfect.” Aziraphale cupped his face.

“I...” Crowley looked at him, lost.

Aziraphale sighed. “It's _me._ ”

“What is?” Crowley stared at him.

“ _I'm_ the problem here. I kept thinking that maybe something was off with my programming, but then I do enjoy so many other forms of human indulgence.”He ran a hand over his stomach.

“But once I started looking into what a human relationship entails, well, I got quite a bit frightened." He made a pained face. "None of that sounds enjoyable. In fact it sounds downright dreadful.”

Aziraphale stroked his cheek. “And I liked what we had. Bickering was fun. You coming over and dragging me away from my books and to dinner, well that was quite enjoyable. But I didn't consider your feelings. I'm afraid I'm rather selfish. Never again, dear.”

Crowley closed his eyes. “You're not just saying that?”

He ran his hands through Crowley's curls “I love you, so very dearly. With my entire heart and soul. I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it.”

“Again.” He begged softly. “Always”

Aziraphale touched his forehead gently. “I'm so sorry I hurt you. I love you.”

“Zira.” He whined.

“I did. Dreadfully. I'll never apologize enough.”

Crowley's eyes drifted slowly open. “Can I, can I hold your hand?”

Aziraphale held his fingers out to him. “That doesn't sound unpleasant.”

Crowley took his hand, curling their fingers together.

“It's rather sort of nice.” Aziraphale said softly.

Crowley smiled at the tender look Aziraphale was giving him. “Yes, it is nice.” He looked at where their fingers were joined. “We can figure this out. Whatever you want. I don't care. I just want to be with you.”

Aziraphale squeezed his fingers. “I suppose it took me long enough to get here, my dear. Far longer than it should have.”

“Yes. I've been throwing myself at you for months. Ages, centuries, really.”

“Oh," he blinked in surprise. "Anthony.”

“Suppose I should have said something.”

“You should sober up.” Aziraphale chided. This wasn't a conversation to be had in this state.

“I'm braver drunk.” Crowley pulled back, letting his hair fall over his face and clenched his hands.

Aziraphale looked ashamed. “Oh, I've driven you to such a _wretched_ state.”

“Zira.” He wasn't sure what he was asking for. He grabbed Aziraphale's hand again. “Are you listening?”

“I'm listening.” Aziraphale met his gaze.

“I'll try to talk. Words, they're hard for me.”

“I'll be a better listener from now on.” He squeezed Crowley's hand and let go to tuck the loose curls behind the entity's ear. “Let me help you dear.” He said his name softly, reverently, “Crowley, I know what I want, but what do you want?”

“You.” He breathed the word from his very core. “In whatever way you'll let me have you. When I fall asssleep at night, you're the last thought on my mind, and when I wake, I want to see your face. I want cuddles and to fall asleep on your shoulder, and I don't ever want to be alone again. My soul is incomplete without you.”

Aziraphale drank in his words.

“When you went back to the bookshop, I thought I was going to die, everything felt so dark and grey, and I thought falling was bad, but this is worssse. You living with me, that was my heaven.” Crowley gripped onto his shoulders, feelings spilling out.

“And then you were gone. I told you to leave, but I didn't want you to go. And I'm terrible at talking about what I want. My wordsss, they don't come out right. It takes hours of drinking just to get my thoughts straight.” He paused. “Or not straight. Really not straight thoughts.” He shook his head. “I'm trying to be _Ar-tic-u-Late._

Crowley wiped at his face, waving his hand to cut Aziraphale off when he started to speak. “You're the most wonderful being I've ever met. I don't care about what's happening around me, I just want to know that you're there. I'm tired of waking up alone in that empty flat. I hate not spending each day with you.”

He looked at the ground. “These last few months have been absolutely hectic, but they were amazing, spending them with you, until last week. We've been on this earth for thousandsss of years. Please don't make me spend another day without you.” He took in a deep breath finally looking up at Aziraphale to see the angel staring back at him rather shocked. “That wassss too much.”

“No, Dear. You just said so much. Like reading into a book. It's fabulous.” He traced along Crowley's jaw and Crowley sank into the touch, his hand coming up to rest on Aziraphale's. Crowley's hand was shaking. “I just wish you didn't feel the need to drink yourself into oblivion before you'd admit it to me. Does love scare you that much?”

“Yesss. I don't get nice things. They're dangled in front of me and then snatched away. And you're a niccce thing.”

Aziraphale ran his hand through Crowley's hair. “You're a nice thing too. The nicest thing I've ever laid eyes on. Always protecting me, bringing me anything that might make me slightly happy. You absolute marvelous boy. I've been in love with you for ages and it scared me so. And you were so patient. I didn't deserve you. And I know you don't think you're special, but you are.” Aziraphale brought Crowley's hand to his lips and kissed it.

Crowley made a sound, like he'd been punched in the gut, a breathy almost wail escaping from deep within him.

“You're okay.” Aziraphale said as he manifested his wings, wrapping tight around Crowley “I've got you.”

Crowley let himself cry into Aziraphale's shoulder, wrapping his arms tightly around Aziraphale. This was happening. It was real.

“I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here.”

Crowley's shoulders shook, but he didn't speak, just whined.

“I have enjoyed myself, so very much.”Aziraphale said soothingly. “All these brilliant days. I loved spending them with you. I love that you care about your plants, and all the humans. You even care about the things I care about."

Aziraphale ran his hand over Crowley's back. "I know you don't care about the bus unions or if schoolkids get wet in the rain, but you know that I do. And that's wonderful, really. And you take me out on picnics and pack all my favorite foods, and you sit through tragic operas because you know I enjoy them.”

He stroked his hand through Crowley's loose curls. “You're so kind. So thoughtful. Genuinely Wonderful.”

“No.” Crowley shook his head against Aziraphale's chest.

“You are. Show me your wings.”

Crowley sat back, called them out and spread them.

Aziraphale gently touched the boning on one “These wings, No one else has wings like that. You're special. I always knew that, but now everyone else does too.”

“I...Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale ran his hands over Crowley's wings. They were so different than his, and he traced over a leaf of ivy. “You're beautiful. Inside and out. And I know it took me too long, but if you'll still have me, then I'm yours.”

“Alwaysss.”

“I'll never leave." He promised. "You mean the world to me dearest.”

Crowley closed his eyes. “Pleassse come home.”

“Absolutely. Right now if you want.”

“Yes pleassse.” Crowley pulled his wings back and looked to Aziraphale.

Aziraphale dug in his pocket and came out with a key.

“Oh I've been wanting to go home all week. I just... I wasn't sure I w...as wanted.”

“Angel, you're alwaysss wanted. It's so quiet without you.”

“Crowley, Its not home without you." He swallowed. "I'm so very happy. You make me happy.”

“I love you.” He breathed out, smoothing out Aziraphale's waistcoat where it had bunched up in his hands.

“I love you too.” He took Crowley's hand, and transported them to the street outside the loft. Once they were inside Crowley stumbled to the couch, focusing on sobering up. It was so much harder to control his hissing when he was drunk.

“Zira. I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want Hell to use it against you. And I was told not to, but when have I ever listened to the rules. It's you, so of course I would tell you what happened.”

“You don't have to tell me anything.” Aziraphale said.

“But I want to. I've wanted to since that night, He's been quite insistent that I keep him out of it.”

“I knew it!” Aziraphale said triumphantly. “It was Gabriel wasn't it?”

Crowley sat up and stared at him in amazement for a moment,

“I just couldn't figure out _why_ he would do it. But I thought if anyone has the power, it's him. And I kept thinking I sensed him, but then he was never there.”

“You never mentioned.”

“Well neither did you. I suspected. But I knew you'd tell me when you were ready.”

“What if had been someeone else?”

“Then I would have guessed wrong. But I'd still be here. I meant it Crowley, I'm not going anywhere.” Aziraphale laced their fingers together again, looking down at the redhead fondly.

“6,000 years, I've never been able to hide anything from you, and I don't want to.”

“I'm glad to hear that.” He smiled. “I don't want to hide anything from you either.”

“I went to the bookshop earlier, and you just looked so happy to be there. I didn't want to bother you. And I kept thinking about how much you've been here for me, digging through old books and cleaning up my messes, and how could anyone be happy doing that?”

Aziraphale dropped his hand, sitting by him on the couch instead. “I'm happy because we're doing it together.” Aziraphale sighed. “Yes, I love my books, but they pale in comparison to you, Dearest.”

He nudged Crowley's shoulder with his own. “I want to come home at night to you. No book would ever live up to you. I know you're worried about Hell, and we'll figure that out too, together. We're stronger together.”

Crowley closed his eyes, just breathing for a moment before curling into Aziraphale's side. “Not tonight though. We've got all the time in the world.”

Aziraphale draped his arm around Crowley. "Yes, we rather do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I put off writing the hell scene? yes I did. I have an idea for a sequel and I felt like this was a good stopping off point. And it's after midnight here, so I'll look this over in the morning to make sure nothing is too wonky. Writing this was really, really fun. I love playing in the Good Omens sandbox. Aziraphale is a DELIGHT, and Crowley is an absolute darling, and they love each other so much. I hope I did them both justice. Thank you guys for sticking with me while I wrote this, and hopefully the sequel will be out soon.


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